It's About Truth
by BlackhawkCarol
Summary: The newlyweds are home and knee-deep in trouble already. Joe's brother's been arrested and Stephanie's facing the worst consequence possible from "Vordo Week". Will love conquer all as old and new truths come to light? For the Cupcakes!
1. Chapter 1

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Well, I'm back for another round of Joe and Stephanie. If you're new to the "It's About" series, go back and read "Time", "Trust" and "Toys" first. Welcome back to those of you who've been such faithful readers—especially to those of you who sent me notes during my vacation wondering when I would return. LOL!

And I need to offer special thanks to Julie for allowing me to bounce ideas off of her and for basically getting me over my fear of writing this story. You're a sweetheart!

Alright folks, let's see where we can go with this…

* * *

Prologue

_"Tony's been arrested again. I'm not sure for what, but there were messages on the machine from him, your mother and Mooch. Vinnie left one for me too, saying he posted the bond. I guess it's hefty."_

_"Fuck!" Joe slammed a fist down on top of the counter next to me. "That goddamned idiot!" He growled in frustration and turned away._

_I felt terrible for him. "Your mother wants you call no matter what time."_

_Joe stuck his hands in his hair and turned in a circle. "Shit, this pisses me off!"_

_"I'm sorry." I honestly didn't know what else to say. "Maybe we should just head over there."_

_He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, trying to calm himself. "No. I'll go."_

_"Joe, don't shut me out."_

_"I'm not." His tone gentled. "We just got home; you're tired and you haven't felt well all day. Go to bed, Cupcake. I'll be back as soon as I can."_

_I was tired, so there was no use fighting a losing battle. "Okay," I agreed. Joe pulled me into his arms and put his forehead next to mine. "I'm sorry, Steph. What a hell of a way to end our beautiful honeymoon."_

_"Don't be sorry. You can't help this. You need to go help your mom."_

_"Yeah," he sighed again. "I love you."_

_"Love you too."_

_He gave me a lingering kiss full of promise and regret and then, grabbing his car keys and jacket, went out the door and into the night._

_"Welcome home," I whispered to an empty house._

* * *

Chapter One

I awoke to the sound of a freight train barreling toward me at high speed.

Panicked and completely disoriented, I jackknifed upward into total darkness, reaching frantically around me.

"It's okay, Cupcake," Joe spoke sleepily next to me. He pulled me back down against his hard body and wrapped his arms securely around my still shivering frame.

_What? Joe was here? _Vaguely, I remembered he'd left hours ago upon hearing of his brother's arrest. I didn't know he'd returned from his mother's house, let alone come to bed.

"What's that noise?" I asked fearfully, trying to raise my head from his chest. "What time is it?"

"Shh…it's four-thirty. I just got home about twenty minutes ago.

My brain was slowly starting to clear from its sleep-induced fog, and I realized the freight train was actually the sound of someone snoring. Since Joe didn't snore and Bob wasn't home yet, that meant someone else was sleeping in our house, and I had a darn good idea who it was.

"Tony's here isn't he."

Joe exhaled in frustration. "Yeah." He ran a hand down the length of my back. "I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do. My mother practically begged me to take him off her hands. She doesn't know how to handle him when he's drunk, and she's afraid he might try to skip town."

"What'd he do anyway?" I asked with a yawn, fully expecting Joe to give me some cock-a-mammy story about Tony soliciting a hooker again.

He hesitated. "It's bad, Stephanie."

"How bad?"

"Truthfully, I'm not sure. I don't have the full story yet. I couldn't get a hold of anyone down at the precinct, and Tony's not giving me a whole hell of a lot of information."

"Joe—"

"There was a raid on a Meth house Friday night," he finally burst with disgust. "Tony was arrested along with five other people—four men and a woman."

"Oh shit," I breathed.

"That's one way to put it," he agreed sarcastically. "What's worse is the house was on the same street as an elementary school. That in itself automatically guarantees a stricter sentence."

"There's got to be a mistake. Tony's not into drugs is he?"

"Up until recently I would have said no way, but given his erratic behavior the past year, I really don't know."

"Well what does _he_ say?"

"Like I said—not much. He was shit-faced and belligerent when I got to my mom's house. Kept claiming it was a set-up—that he'd been framed—blah, blah, blah. No details. Just the same crap over and over again."

"What about Angelina and the kids?"

"She kicked him out. Can you really blame her? My mom heard through the grapevine the woman they arrested with Tony is his latest skank."

I was silent for a moment, listening to the out-of-control snoring coming from the next room and thinking about poor Angelina. I couldn't imagine the fear and humiliation she had to be feeling. As far as I was concerned, she should've kicked Joe's philandering drunkard of a brother to the curb years ago. "Do _you_ think he'll run?"

Joe sighed wearily. "I don't know. He's too smashed to do anything right now. I managed to drag his ass home with me and into the guest bedroom to sleep it off. Tomorrow morning I'll go down to the station and see what I can find out. My mom doesn't know if he's been appointed an attorney, and I'm not even clear what the charges are against him yet."

"What can I do to help?"

Joe drew me closer into his embrace. "God, I love you more than ever just for asking. We should have never left Barbados. It pisses me off you're being dragged into my family's troubles so soon after the honeymoon."

"It's alright. I'd rather help than have you try to shield me."

"Okay," Joe slurred as he began to succumb to sleep, "but can we talk more in the morning? I'm beat."

"Of course. I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep though. I don't handle snoring very well," I grumbled. "I remember once Lula came to stay with me for a few days, and I thought I'd die from sleep deprivation the way she went at it." I turned my head to smile up at Joe only to find he was already dead to the world.

Placing a soft kiss on his jaw line, I laid my head back down against his chest, content to hold my new husband and listen to the sound of his heartbeat thumping steadily in my ear. It was a comforting contrast to the outrageous sounds coming from the other side of our bedroom wall.

* * *

Clearly Tony's snoring hadn't kept me awake very long, because the next thing I knew the sun was shining through Aunt Rose's curtains and the bed space beside me was empty. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I saw it was already after nine. The smell of bacon was strong in the air—much to my stomach's dislike, and I could hear the sound of the shower running as well as someone singing a lousy rendition of Jagger's "Satisfaction" downstairs in the kitchen. Obviously my new brother-in-law was awake and none the worse for wear following his latest binge.

_God, the smell of that meat was disgusting! _Breathing deeply through my nose, I concentrated on not gagging and faced my own grim reality that number one on my to-do list for the day needed to be buying a pregnancy test. Whether I truly was pregnant or had simply scared myself into having pseudo-symptoms, I needed to know once and for all the truth—at least that's how brave Stephanie felt. Chicken-shit Stephanie was freaking terrified of the myriad of repercussions Grandma Bella's September curse would create should I indeed be pregnant.

_Shit! _I'd just turned thirty-three a couple of weeks ago and had only been married for eight days. I wasn't ready for this kind of drama _or _motherhood. Everything had _finally_ fallen into place between Joe and me. We were both content simply to be in love with one another without the burden of another body in our midst. Unfortunately, the reality that my foolishness during Vordo week may very possibly be about to cause Joe pain—especially on top of what was already happening with Tony—made my stomach feel even sicker.

I slowly moved to sit up when the door opened, and Joe entered the bedroom clad only in a pair of briefs with a towel wrapped around his neck. Despite the nausea, my body immediately responded to the beauty of his. "Hey," I greeted softly, extending my hand toward him.

"You're up," Joe smiled, leaning over and giving me a quick kiss. He then rolled his eyes in disgust. "Of course why _wouldn't_ you be the way 'Mick's' going at it down there. I'll tell him to shut up."

"No, don't go," I gave a half-hearted pout. "It's Sunday morning. Technically we're still on our honeymoon until tomorrow, right?" Running my index finger down the front of his chest, I tried to smile seductively, although I think it came across as more of a grimace. "Come back to bed."

Joe tossed the towel aside and slid on top of me, giving me a much more thorough kiss. "Mmmm…there's nothing I'd like more than to spend the day in bed with you, Cupcake. Lying there you look like a sex package waiting to be opened on Christmas Day."

"Is that a good thing?" I asked breathlessly, moaning when his kisses moved across my face and down my neck.

"Mmmm…hmmm…very good," he mumbled back.

Looking down, I could see his briefs getting tighter. I moved to place my hand over his barely constrained desire only to have him still my arm by my side instead. "I'm afraid this is going to have to wait until later. I've got to get down to the precinct to see what I can find out about the charges against Tony."

I was only half-listening. My body was caught somewhere between wanting to insist upon a Morelli-induced orgasm and wanting to hurl all over poor Joe. I took another deep breath through my nose and smiled wanly. "No problem."

He eyed me more carefully. "You okay? You still look a little green. I didn't even ask if you're feeling better from yesterday's flight."

"Yep," I assured him hastily. "I'm feeling _much_ better this morning. Nothing a little sleep couldn't cure." I nudged him to roll off of me. "In fact, I'm thinking a nice big plate of bacon is sounding pretty amazing right about now." _Amazingly awful!_

"If you're _sure_ you're okay, do you think I can take you up on last night's offer for help?"

"What'd you have in mind?"

His face was grim. "I refuse to put us both through the misery of having Tony stay here another night. I need to talk to him first and find out what happened with Friday's bust, but if I can convince him not to skip out on this charge, I have a solution for the interim."

I looked at him questioningly.

"Your apartment," he explained, dropping a kiss on my nose. "He could stay there until his hearing or at least until we find out if Angelina is serious about kicking him out for good."

The thought of Tony living in my old place was oddly disturbing, although I wasn't quite sure why. However, the alternative of having him stay with us was definitely worse, so I nodded my head reluctantly. "Okay."

"I'll take Tony with me this morning to keep an eye on him _and _do some interrogation. If you were to head over to the apartment and pack up the rest of your personal stuff, I could pawn him off onto Mooch this afternoon and come help you move everything over here. We can figure out what to do with the furniture and kitchen stuff after we know more about Tony."

"So where's Paulie?" I blurted when Joe's other brother suddenly popped into my head. "You haven't mentioned him at all. I thought he and Tony were supposedly joined at the hip."

"They are," Joe frowned. "According to my mother and Mooch, nobody's talked to him since everybody got back from Barbados. When I asked Tony, he flat-out refused to talk about anything other than the notion that _he's_ being framed for this Meth Lab business and my getting the charges against him dropped somehow. He never mentioned Paul, so I have no idea what's going on with him."

"Nothing like Trenton's new head of Vice being forced to investigate his own brother on a drug charge the first day back to work."

He snorted disgustedly. "Fuck. It's doubtful Rogers will even let me head up the investigation. That's why I need to get as much information as I can in case they _do _decide to shut me out."

I allowed Joe to pull me into a sitting position and put on my best attempt at a smile while he quickly finished getting dressed. Afterward he tossed me a sweatshirt to put on along with a pair of sweatpants.

"No point in giving Tony anything to salivate over," he noted dryly. Taking my hand, he added, "Come on. Let's get you some breakfast."

Together we walked down the stairs and found Tony strutting around the kitchen in his boxers and a t-shirt, using a spatula as a microphone while he continued to sing. Upon seeing me, he flashed the Morelli grin and acted as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Hey, beautiful! How's my favorite new sister-in-law?"

"Okay." I raised an eyebrow at him. "You seemed to have recovered nicely from last night."

He had the grace to blush, but winked boldly at me. "Hell, that was nothing, baby doll. Takes a lot more than a little whiskey to bring down a Morelli."

Joe put several pieces of bacon on a paper towel and hastily cut off his brother. "Hurry up and get dressed, Tony. We need to get down to the station."

Tony glared at him, his face hardening with resentment. "What's your problem, Joey? Can't I even—?"

"Don't—start—with—me," Joe's eyes flashed dangerously. "I ought to kick your ass out of here right now and let you face this mess you've gotten into on your own. What the fuck were you thinking getting involved with—?"

"We'll have to catch up later, Steph," Tony interrupted with a dimmer smile and yet another wink as he handed me the spatula. "It seems my baby brother's a little antsy to start the day."

I didn't respond as he left the room, still trying to fight the awful smell of grease, and I didn't dare say anything to Joe who was furiously chewing on a strip of bacon and staring down at his shoes. Thankfully a knock at the door and the sound of barking broke the uncomfortable silence. _Bob and Rex were home!_

Joe opened the door for our neighbor Mrs. Kubacki, and immediately Bob made a beeline for me.

"Hey, Bob! Hey, boy! How's my big guy, huh? Oh, I missed you!"

I went to work lavishing hugs and belly rubs over the orange monster, not even listening to the quiet conversation happening between Joe and Mrs. Kubacki. It seemed to take _forever_. Not until I heard the door close did I look up and notice Joe was standing there with a horrified look on his face along with an empty cage. Bob, sensing there was someone else in the house, raced up the stairs in pursuit.

Fighting against the lump in my throat, I stood and asked nervously. "Where's Rex? Hiding in his soup can?"

Joe slowly shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Joe? Where's Rex?" But somehow I already knew.

He set the cage on the kitchen counter and moved to pull me into his arms. "Jesus, I'm sor—"

"No!" I stepped backward. "There's nothing to be sorry about. He's probably just hiding like he's done a million other times. Let me see the cage."

"Cupcake—"

"Shut up, Morelli. Rex is—"

"Dead." Joe said softly, finally managing to get his arms around me. "Rex is dead. He's gone, Steph. Believe me, I wish he wasn't."

"Dead?" I barely squeaked the words through my lips. _Noooo_. "What happened?"

"Mrs. Kubacki said she came down to breakfast one day last week and found him lying on the bottom of his wheel. I guess his heart simply gave out." Joe hugged me closer. "He lived a lot longer than most hamsters, Cupcake, but this still sucks. I know how much you loved him. I did too."

"There has to be a mistake," I insisted, tears beginning to slip from the corners of my eyes.

Joe began to panic upon seeing the tears, anxiously running kisses over my face and hair. He never handled crying very well—especially when it was _me_ doing the crying. "Shit. Listen, I'll call my friend who owns the pet store—"

I shook my head miserably, not even able to smile at the fact we'd had this very conversation once before in our relationship. "Joe, it's _Rex!_"

"I know, baby. I'm so sorry," he whispered sadly against my temple.

The sobs came then, followed by an overwhelming urge to vomit. The smell of the bacon grease combined with the horror that the _only_ one who had offered me unconditional love over the past four years was gone put me over the edge. Pushing frantically against Joe, I stumbled into the downstairs half-bath and began to heave. Worse yet, there was nothing in my stomach to expel, so the heaves were dry.

Joe knelt right behind me, holding my hair in a ponytail with one hand and running the other over my back. Finally, I slid off to the side, weeping uncontrollably. This _had_ to be the worst welcome home anyone had ever received following a honeymoon. Of course with my track record, I really shouldn't have expected anything less.

Tony suddenly appeared in the doorway to the bathroom. "What the hell's going on? Bob's upstairs yakking up some kind of potholder and from the looks of things, Stephanie's yakking up something else down here."

"Shut up, Tony," Joe warned through clenched teeth. "Why don't you go make yourself useful and clean up the mess Bob made, okay?"

"What?" he asked dumbly with both a grimace and an eye-roll. "I don't clean up puke. Makes me sick to my stomach. Angelina always takes care of that crap at our house."

"Then I suggest you go home to your wife."

"Fine," Tony huffed, clearly insulted. "Where are the cleaning products?"

"Beneath the upstairs sink. Go." Joe jerked his head. With another eye-roll, Tony disappeared upstairs again.

"What can I get for you?" Joe returned his attention back to me, brushing the hair away from my forehead.

I shook my head, trying to stop crying. "I'm okay now. You and Tony should get going."

"Don't talk crazy," he smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."

Hearing that, I worked even harder to stem the tears. I _needed _Joe to leave so that I could go get the damn pregnancy test. "I'm fine," I insisted, pushing myself awkwardly off the floor. "I just need some time to process all that's happened. Isn't that what you're always telling me?" I made a weak attempt at teasing him.

Joe stood as well, giving me a look that let me know he was fully aware I was dishing him a bowl of crap. "I thought we were going to try honesty in this new marriage of ours, Mrs. Morelli."

"I _am _being honest," I insisted. _God, don't strike me down for lying to my husband on a Sunday! _"Call Tony and get out of here. I'll meet you at the apartment like we planned later, okay?" Joe still looked doubtful. "Morelli, I'm going to cry whether I'm here with you or over at my apartment packing my things. Let me at least be productive in my grief, okay?"

"Fine," he sighed in resignation. "But you'll call if you need me, right?"

"Of course."

"Okay, I'll try to be there by lunchtime then. I'll bring Pino's subs."

_God, please NO meat! _"Uh, I'm thinking maybe pasta this time—spaghetti with marinara sauce."

Joe stared at me. "Marinara sauce?"

"Yes," I responded a tad irritably. "And lots of garlic bread."

"_Okay…_" he agreed reluctantly. I could tell he was fighting a war within himself. He didn't feel it was right to leave me. But I _had _to get him out of there.

"The faster you go, the faster you'll be back. Besides don't you think Tony's future is a little more important than Rex's past right now?"

The corner of Joe's mouth finally curled. "I'm not so sure. They're both vermin after all." He leaned over and kissed me softly. "I love you, Cupcake. I'll meet you as soon as I can—promise."

Pasting yet another smile on my face, I nodded. "Love you too. Hurry."

He left to collect Tony, and soon I heard their arguing voices fade as the door of the house clicked shut. Making my way back into the kitchen, I stared at the empty cage on the counter. Immediately, the tears returned.

"Rex," I mouthed silently, mourning my furry little companion. I ran my fingers across the metal bars and said aloud, "Who's going to listen to my secrets now? And right now I've got a big one too, buddy."

The silence that greeted me in return was nothing new. After all, Rex had never been much for conversation. But he'd been one hell of a listener.

"You were the best pet ever, Rex—practically my first baby." My voice hitched in fear. "Only now I think I might be having a _real_ baby. And that's _not_ going to be a good thing—for anyone."

Wiping at the tears again, I headed for the stairs. It was time to face reality.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Sorry it's taken so long to post this second chapter. I suddenly find myself having an incredibly busy real life again and finding time to write has been a challenge. Bear with me. I promise not to leave the story unfinished. It just might take me a little bit longer this time, especially since this is the most challenging story I've attempted to date.

I also want to thank those who took the time to post a review last chapter. I'm so far behind with everything I haven't even had a chance to individually thank you. That's coming as soon as I hit post on this chapter!

Finally, a HUGE thanks to Julie not only for doing a Beta read, but mostly for continuing to encourage me with this storyline. Between writing and reading my stuff, do you ever sleep? LOL

* * *

Chapter Two

The number of times I'd allowed myself to think about having a baby with Joe Morelli over the years could be counted on _one _hand. Once had been the result of a deranged vision on the part of his crazy Grandma Bella early in our relationship. Twice more had been on our honeymoon. The remaining two had been absurd little moments of insanity where I'd pictured myself huddled around a pregnancy test with either Joe or Mary Lou—or at the very least Lula—waiting for the results with bated breath.

_Never_ in any of my wildest imaginings had I conceptualized my current reality.

Ten friggin' pregnancy tests lay strewn about me on the bed of my old apartment—each clearly labeled with plus signs, two lines, smiley faces, the word pregnant or any other symbol imaginable indicating my foolishness. There wasn't a lick of pee left in me. In fact I'd be surprised if any water was left in my body, considering I'd cried enough tears that morning to fill a backyard swimming pool. First the news about Rex and now the indisputable truth I was indeed pregnant had left me completely spent.

The idea of another human being inside of me was simply beyond my comprehension. In truth, it scared the living shit out of me—just one more indication I wasn't ready to become a mother regardless of how much I loved Joe. I'd barely gotten used to the idea of becoming a wife and committing myself to one man for the rest of my life.

And therein existed the real problem. For too long I'd made myself available to _two _men and now both of them had an equal chance of being the father of this mistake in my belly, because that was the only way I could see it—as a mistake. Surely God would strike me down for feeling that way about an innocent child, but in my current state I didn't even have the energy to care. As far as I was concerned God had already inflicted his punishment by allowing me to face the consequences of my wantonness.

How in the hell was I supposed to tell Joe about all of this—or for that matter Ranger or anyone else in my life? Lying spread-eagled on top of my comforter, I stared up at the ceiling and contemplated my future—now dry-eyed and terrified. I hadn't packed a goddamn thing.

As if I'd somehow conjured him up with worry, I heard Joe's key scraping in the lock of the front door. Like a bullet I shot up and began to frantically sweep the pregnancy tests back into the plastic shopping bag from the store where I'd purchased them clear across town.

"Cupcake?" he called from the kitchen. "Hey, lunch is here. You in the bathroom?"

"The bedroom," I tossed back weakly. Looking desperately for a place to hide the bag, I quickly shoved it behind the pillows on the bed as Joe made his way down the hallway and into the room.

"Pasta's on the table, and I've successfully transferred Tony to Mooch. How's the packing goi—?" He stopped in the doorway, noticing the room void of boxes and my sprawled position on the bed. Immediately, his eyes narrowed. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just taking a break."

One eyebrow went up questioningly. "From?" He observed me more closely, and then said compassionately, "It's Rex, isn't it."

Instinct and old habits immediately took over before I could stop myself, and half-truths and outright lies began to spew. Stretching and feigning a yawn, I responded sleepily, "Mmmm…that plus I'm just feeling tired from the trip home yesterday. Sorry, I only meant to close my eyes for a minute. Guess it turned into a little more. I'll get up and start packing."

Joe crawled onto the bed and easily pulled me into his arms. "I shouldn't have left you this morning," he murmured self-condemningly. "I know how much Rex means to you."

_Not as much as YOU mean to me. _"I'll be okay. Let's eat and get to work." I attempted to sit up, only to have Joe tighten his embrace.

"What's your hurry?" he wondered in a low, husky voice. He had me draped halfway across his body and was running his hands through my hair. "It feels good just to hold you. Barbados seems like a lifetime ago, and what with all the crap with Tony last night, I've missed _us_. Weren't you just reminding me this morning we're still on our honeymoon?"

"But lunch—"

"Will easily reheat. Right now I want to know how you're _really_ doing with everything that's happened since we got back—starting with Rex."

_God, he was being so damn nice about everything_. Closing my eyes in pain, I wondered how he would act toward me once he knew I might be pregnant with Ranger's child. If the situation were reversed and I found out Terri Gilman was pregnant with Joe's child, I'd quite literally want to kill them both, and I wasn't all that sure I could stay married to him. I certainly wouldn't be able to help raise _her _child. The sight of a baby created by the two of them would be a constant reminder to me of Joe's betrayal. What kind of person did that make me?

I needed time to make some major decisions before burdening Joe with this potentially life-altering news.

"Steph," he nudged me lightly. "You okay?"

"I'm sad, but okay," I finally whispered. "It feels good to have you hold me. I've missed us too."

"How are you feeling physically? Have you been sick again?"

I shook my head, avoiding his earnest gaze. He was killing me with kindness. Out of desperation I tried again to veer his attention off of me. "I haven't had much to eat though, and I'm starved."

"I'm hungry too," Joe smiled lazily with a gleam in his eye, his hands sliding down my back to dip below my waist. "In fact, the longer I'm here with you the hungrier I'm getting—just maybe not for pasta."

Before I could protest or try to redirect his focus, he flipped our positions, his mouth hovering inches from mine as my back and head hit the pillows.

_Crackle! Crackle!_

Joe lifted his head with a funny look on his face. "What the hell was that?"

_SHIT! _"I didn't hear anything," I said with a benign shrug.

"That crackling noise." He reached his hand up toward where he'd heard the noise by my head, and I made a grab for his wrist in mid-air.

"Can we _please _eat? I'm famished."

"Okay, what's going on?" His eyes squinted at me again. Gently pulling his hand from my grasp, he reached beneath me and pulled out the shopping bag, looking thoroughly confused. "Why is there a ShopRite grocery bag underneath your pillow? What's in here?"

"Garbage." I said, ignoring the pangs of my conscience. "Left from when I was still living here. Huh, I'm not quite sure how it got under there. Go figure."

Joe sat up and moved to open the bag. "You're sure it's garbage?"

"Sure I'm sure," I tried to sound carefree while reaching for the bag again. "Here I'll get rid of it."

He rattled the bag and looked at me. "Why am I having trouble believing you?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to eat lunch now if you don't mind. Would you please give me the bag?" I commanded testily.

He continued to watch me carefully with those intimidating cop's eyes of his. "How about I pitch it _for_ you."

"Not necessary." I made a grab for it again, but Joe simply moved his hand out of reach.

"Now I _have _to open it," he shook his head with a teasing, half-smile on his face. "You're up to something, Cupcake."

"Please, Joe," I begged. Maybe if I sounded wounded, he'd drop the subject. "I'm not up for games so soon after finding out about Rex."

Instead of showing sympathy, his eyes became even more suspicious. "Seems to me you're the one playing games, and I'm not up for them either—not after the morning I had with Tony." He pushed my outstretched arm away again and opened the bag, dumping its contents onto the bed between us.

There was nothing but silence for several moments as Joe stared at the pregnancy tests. He was nothing short of gob smacked.

His eyes finally met mine with a hesitant, yet hopeful look. "Steph—?"

"It's not what you think!"

He fingered through the tests, noting the positive result on every one of them. "How do you figure that?" he asked stunned.

God, I hated myself for every lie that was coming from my mouth. Scrambling for a logical answer, I exhaled nervously. "They're Lula's. We used them the week you gave me the ultimatum about our relationship. I guess we got carried away and forgot to dump the tests."

"You're telling me Lula's pregnant?"

"_Was_. I think she miscarried or something. I'm not really sure."

"Bullshit," he swore quietly, looking at the tests again. I could hear the first hint of temper creeping into his voice. "These are yours. Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not—"

His head whipped up, and _Detective _Morelli glared at me. "_Stop_!"

Snapping my mouth shut, I closed my eyes against the confusion and frustration in his. After a moment, Joe reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. In a quieter voice, he asked, "Stephanie,_ are_ you pregnant?"

Tears were now falling silently down my cheeks. Without opening my eyes, I nodded miserably.

Joe inhaled sharply, and I imagined a huge grin was surely spreading across his face. "Are you serious? This is—"

He suddenly stopped cold—most likely due to the look of agony on my own face. After an awkward moment, he continued, "Okay, obviously you're not happy about the fact."

There was no response from me, so he forged ahead tentatively. "Well I'll admit you've shocked the hell out of me too. I wasn't expecting this right away, but my God, Cupcake. I…I don't even know what to say. It's just frickin' amazing. You're going to be the most beautiful pregnant woman ever."

I merely sat there unmoving—my eyes still closed and seeping.

"At least it explains the way you've been feeling the past few days, right?" he joked, trying to lighten the tension, but there was still nothing on my part.

He gave a little sigh. "Steph, I understand you're scared of motherhood, but it's going to be okay, I swear. I won't let you go through any of this alone."

"You don't understand," I finally answered him, my voice barely audible.

"_What_ don't I understand?" he asked urgently. "_Help_ me understand. Is the idea of having my baby really so horrible?"

This was it_—_my chance to do the right thing and be honest with him. Against everything ingrained in me to make up another story—anything that would bide me more time—I fought the urge and finally opened my eyes.

"No. The idea of having _your_ baby is not horrible, Joe."

A slow, beautiful smile started to build—an expression unlike any I'd ever seen on his face. "See? It's going to be okay. Come here, Mom…my…." His voice trailed off in the midst of reaching for me, as he took in my continued despair. Like a sledgehammer to the heart, I could see the reason for my terror was finally hitting him, and he paled.

"Sweet Christ," he whispered. "It's not mine, is it."

"I don't know."

Joe practically sprang from the bed. "What do you mean—you don't _know,_" he demanded in a low, urgent voice and began to pace.

"I _don't_ know," I repeated, suddenly feeling very tired. "I need to see my doctor and—"

"Back up," he interrupted with one hand raised. "How far along do you _think _you are?"

"I'm honestly not sure. I—"

"Guess."

"Maybe 7 or 8 weeks."

He did the math in his head. "Hawaii?"

"I don't think so," I shook my head, biting my lip. "I'm thinking it was during Vordo week."

"What the fuck is Vordo week?" Joe looked at me exasperatedly. He was clearly battling for self-control.

"Don't you remember? Your Grandma Bella placed the eye on me back during the first part of September. She gave me the Vordo."

"Oh for God's sake, there's no such thing as _Vordo!"_

"There must be! Why else would I have been such a sexual rabbit that week?"

"We were hardly rabbits," he scoffed, shutting his eyes to try and remember. "Okay, it's coming back to me. We only did it a couple of times that week, but what—you forgot your pills or something?"

"I guess. It was a crazy time for me, but I'm assuming that's what happened."

Joe seemed to calm considerably and his smile was slowly creeping back. "Well it certainly wouldn't be the first time you and I've played with fire, would it? Maybe this wasn't exactly our plan, but we'll be okay. You're _sure_ it couldn't have happened in Hawaii?"

"I'm sure. Ranger used condoms." _At least most of the time._

"Why'd you go scaring me like that then," he chided. "If it was during this so-called Vordo week, obviously I'm the fath…" Once again his voice dropped as I continued to stare at him, my tears falling even faster now.

The most awful silence we'd ever shared fell between us like a brick wall.

He looked at me in painful accusation. "You had sex with Ranger that same week?"

Gulping down emotion, I answered. "Yes."

Joe moved backward in disbelief, not stopping until his body hit the doorjamb to the bedroom door. "You're saying you slept with both of us during the same week." It wasn't a question this time.

"Yes."

"How many times with Manoso?"

I couldn't even look at him. "Twice."

"Shit!" he exploded, banging his fist against the wall next to him and cracking the drywall.

I immediately shrank backward although not from fear. Joe was no doubt a highly physical person, but, unlike other Morelli males, I knew he'd never hurt me physically. No, my revulsion came from knowing how much my past immaturity was now hurting the man I loved. "Joe—"

His back brushed along the wall as he sank to the ground, bending his knees and plowing both hands through his hair. "I can't fucking believe this," he muttered dazedly to himself. "I _finally _marry you and the guy _still _has a goddamned hold over us."

"No," I exclaimed, tumbling off the bed to kneel in front of Joe unsure of whether to touch him or not. "He has _zero _hold over us. I love _you_. I wish to God I could take back what I did, but—"

"Did you sleep with both of us in the same day?" He raised his head and looked me straight in the eye.

"No! Of course not. I'd never—"

"What do mean "of course not"? Seems to me if you're willing to sleep with two men in the same week, it's not such a stretch to think you might do it in the same day."

"You have to believe me—"

"Why?" Joe looked at me incredulously. "_Why _the hell should I believe you? You just laid in that bed not three minutes ago and sacrificed up one of your best friends—telling me Lula was pregnant. What the fuck, Stephanie! Is anything that comes out of your mouth true? Did you even mean those vows you said to me last week?"

I was crying so hard I was bordering on hysteria. "Yes! Yes, I meant them. Please, you _have_ to believe me."

"I don't know _what_ to believe anymore," he shot back in disgust. "I sure as hell can't believe you were screwing both of us at the same time! How long was that going on?"

"Not long, I—"

"You what? You _promise? _You _swear? _Give me a fucking break. I can't believe a word that comes out of your mouth." He thumped his head against the wall. "This is fucking unbelievable. After everything we've been through since Hawaii—after everything we said to one another in Barbados, you try to fucking lie your way out this. Blaming my _grandmother, _for Christ's sake, because you couldn't control your own goddamned lust. Jesus—I don't believe this shit."

"I'm so sorry," I whimpered. It was obvious Joe's fury was ratcheting exponentially.

He stood abruptly. "I'm out of here."

"No!" I scrambled after him, touching his elbow. "Please—"

"_Do not _touch me right now, Stephanie," he commanded roughly, yanking his arm away and moving down the hallway toward the living room. I followed two steps behind him feeling positively frantic.

"Where are you going? Please, Joe—_please_ don't leave."

His eyes were black with rage as he grabbed his leather jacket off the back of a dining room chair. "There is _nothing _you can say I want to hear right now."

"Will you be back?" I wondered fearfully.

"I don't know, but I'm sure if you get lonely, you can call your little fuck buddy Ranger." He gave me another fierce look filled with anger but mostly hurt. "It was hard enough accepting the fact you screwed him in the first place, but that you'd go back and forth between us is just—"

"It wasn't like that—"

"Save your breath, Stephanie. I don't need any more of your lies." He paused as he opened the door, nodding his head toward the dining room table. "You'd better eat something. The reality is you _are _pregnant with _someone's _baby, and both of you need to be fed."

He shut the door behind him, and I had no idea if he was coming back. Once again a husband of mine had abandoned me.

* * *

It was five o'clock and the sun was just beginning its descent on that chilly and gloomy Sunday in October. Our lunch remained uneaten on the table and after repeated trips to the bathroom, I was weak and more than likely dehydrated, but I didn't care. My vomiting was no longer a result of being pregnant but a punishment for deceiving my husband of merely a week.

One week. I couldn't even manage to keep my vow to be honest with him for _one _week.

Huddled beneath a blanket on the couch, I alternated between sleeping and crying. At the moment I was mourning Rex. God, I ached for my secret-keeping friend and the squeak of his feet racing on the wheel inside his cage. I needed to experience the unconditional love only he could provide.

My cell phone had gone off all afternoon. Every time it rang, I would jump to see if it was Joe, but the caller ID always indicated my mother, Mary Lou or Lula's phone numbers. Those calls remained unanswered, and I'm sure my mother was having a conniption worrying over the fact that neither Joe nor I had made contact since our return from Barbados.

Suddenly his key made the same familiar scrape as earlier in the front door. I didn't even have the energy to lift my head as he walked into the darkened living area, and I could see him squinting to see in the fading twilight.

"Stephanie," he called out. His voice was no longer angry but it certainly didn't sound loving either.

"Over here."

He took off his jacket, hooking it onto the back of a dining room chair, and shook his head at the food still sitting on the table.

"Why haven't you eaten?"

I was too weak for another battle. "Leave me alone, Joe. If you're back to yell at me some more, you can save it. There's nothing you can say I haven't already said to myself a million times."

He made his way toward me and turned a table lamp on low before sitting in the chair next to the sofa. Slouching with his head back against the cushions, he stretched long, denim-clad legs and sighed. "You need to eat."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Fuck you." Whether I had the right or not, I was still upset he'd left me earlier. "I told you to leave me alone. I can't handle any more right now."

He plowed ahead seemingly oblivious to my state of mind. "You said Ranger used condoms in Hawaii. Did he use them during that week?"

It was like our conversation from earlier had never stopped.

"No." I answered in a monotone voice.

"Why not?"

"Because it wasn't until Hawaii I realized I might have missed a pill and made him take extra precaution."

"Did you tell him why?"

"No."

"Why didn't you have me use precaution after you got back from your trip? Did you go back on the pill or something?" He was trying too hard to make sense out of a senseless situation.

Shaking my head, I responded, "I was so thankful you were even _speaking_ to me after that fiasco in Hawaii I never gave another thought to a possible pregnancy. I didn't think of it throughout the Kennard case, our reunion, our engagement, the wedding—even through most of the honeymoon."

"Most?" Joe caught my wording immediately.

"It wasn't until halfway through last week that it dawned on me I still hadn't had a period." I confessed uncomfortably.

"When?"

"The morning we were supposed to SCUBA dive."

"I _knew _something wasn't right when I came back with the damn camera." He slapped his hand down on the arm of the chair. "No way could you bring down some of the nut cases you've captured in the past and be scared of simply going under water. What happened?"

"Truthfully, I _was_ scared to go under the water, but it was really all Perky Patty's fault," I grumbled.

"Who?" Joe looked at me in total bewilderment.

I continued to sputter, waving my arm weakly. "The girl behind the counter at the dive shop. You left for the parking lot, and she started telling me all the reasons why a person shouldn't SCUBA. One of them was if you thought you might be pregnant. I heard those words and all of these warning bells went off in my brain."

"Did you really go to the beach after I left for the dive?"

I nodded unhappily. "Pulled out my calendar and started counting back to when I'd had my last period. I'm still not even sure when _that_ was. I think it was a couple of weeks prior to Vordo week, but like I said, I need to see my doctor to be sure how far along I am."

"Quit calling it Vordo week!" he snapped, but immediately fought to regain self-control. "There's no such thing as Vordo. Nothing and _nobody_ forced you to make the choices you did."

Neither of us said anything for several moments. Finally I took a risk and spoke in a hushed tone. "You have no reason to trust me, but I'm swearing to you on all that is holy I never gave pregnancy a thought during the past eight weeks. If I had, I would've told you _before _the wedding."

"Why didn't you tell me in Barbados as soon as you suspected?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I replied tersely. "I was scared and forced myself into denial. I kept telling myself it couldn't be true. I'd just married the love of my life, and—"

Joe snorted derisively. "Some love. You couldn't even trust me enough to confide in me."

"Like you would have if you'd been in my shoes?" My own anger raised its ugly head again. "Give me a break, Morelli."

"I _would_ have told you," he insisted flatly. "Correct me if I'm wrong but prior to the wedding didn't we both agree to hold _nothing_ back from one another any more?"

"Yes, but this—"

Joe waved his hand dismissively. "No more excuses and _no more _lies. If you love me as much as you claim, you should know I deserve better, Steph," he finished tiredly.

I sat up and leaned toward him earnestly. "I _do _love you, Joe—with all my heart. I've been going out of my mind worrying I might lose you over my stupidity and loose morals. I'm so sick I can't even think clearly. If getting rid of this baby means keeping you, I'll do it. I _can't_ lose you."

Clearly repulsed, he spoke through clenched teeth. "Don't you _ever _say such a heinous thing to me again! What? Now you're willing to abort your own child to try and ease your conscience and suit your own selfish purposes? For Christ's sake, grow up and _think_, Stephanie. That baby could just as easily be mine as Ranger's, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you kill _my _child!"

At any other time, I would have given him hell for such a possessive sounding statement, but I was beyond reason.

"And what if it's not," my voice hitched. Any semblance of my own self-control was gone. "You think you'll be able to look at me—touch me—make love to me if this baby is Ranger's?" Throwing my hands over my face, a sob came out of nowhere. "I don't _want_ to have Ranger's baby, Joe. Don't you understand?"

My stomach lurched yet again, and I made a mad dash to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. There was literally nothing in my stomach to expel and once more I was forced to endure the dry heaves. Unlike that morning, Joe wasn't behind me to hold my hair or rub my back, but when I slid off to the side he was standing in the doorway.

"You okay?" he asked evenly.

"Fine." I swiped at my eyes haphazardly, avoiding his gaze.

He reached over and grabbed a washcloth off the linen shelf, wet it and handed it to me.

"Thank you," I acknowledged softly.

Squeezing past me, he sat down on the edge of the tub. Neither of us spoke and minutes passed in rapid succession, the silence building awkwardly while we each dealt with our own demons. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and asked the million-dollar question. "Are you going to divorce me?"

Joe looked as though I'd slapped him. "Do you really think so little of me?" he asked in a hurt tone. "Something doesn't go my way, so—what—I just abandon you?"

"I wasn't thinking of it in terms like that. I just wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to be married to me anymore. I was a such a slut and now—"

"Shut up," he muttered tersely. "You weren't a slut. You absolutely made some lousy choices, but a slut wouldn't care who she hurt, and you do. We all make mistakes. God knows I've made some terrible ones. Unfortunately, what you haven't learned yet is that telling the truth up front is better than trying to back peddle on the hind side."

"Still—"

Joe cut me off. "I'm sorry I walked out on you earlier."

_What? _He was apologizing to me?

"I was too fucking furious to talk then, and truthfully I was embarrassed. I'm a cop—a trained observer. I should have known that business about your having a bladder infection after we'd been together that week was a load of crap. If I'd been thinking more clearly, I could have easily followed the clues and confronted you about Ranger then instead of waiting until after Hawaii. It's embarrassing to know I missed it and allowed you to play me for a fool the way you did—especially because I'm _sure _Manoso was aware the two of _us_ had been at it and didn't care."

"No—"

"Save it. It really doesn't matter any more."

"Well you can save it too! I'm not allowing you to take any responsibility over what's happened—big or small. _I'm _the one who let things get out of hand, Morelli." Running the washcloth over my face again, I asked dully. "Why did you come back?"

His eyes certainly weren't filled with warmth but neither were they ice-cold any longer. "I made vows to you last week. I promised to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health and to love you and honor you all the days of my life. I take that pledge seriously."

"I know," I whispered. "You're the most honorable person I know."

He snorted derisively again. "Hardly."

"I haven't honored you at all, Joe—before _or after _the wedding."

He slid down to the floor so that our knees were touching. "I supposed it's debatable," he agreed reluctantly, "but does that give me license to do the same? Is our entire marriage going to be some kind of tally sheet of tits and tats?"

"I hope not."

"God, me too. We'll be miserable." He reached out and stroked the side of my cheek with the tips of his fingers. "I may be mad—and believe me, I'm still _really_ pissed at you for lying to me. Do you hear what I'm saying? _Not_ because this baby might or might not be mine, but because you didn't trust me enough to confide in me right away about the baby OR to confess to me about what happened during your stupid Vordo week. I always assumed your relationship with Manoso occurred when you and I were on the outs. Instead you were stringing us both at the same time. I can't tell you how much that hurts, Steph."

"I'm so sorry."

His tone softened even further. "I have no doubt you are, but I don't want your apologies—sincere as they may be. I want your _word_ that you're never going to lie to me again. I don't care if it's about a hangnail or a skip that's strapped a bomb to your body. I want the truth _every _goddamned time. Do you know why?"

I shook my head saying nothing.

"Because without honesty our marriage is based on nothing more than sex, and as much as I LOVE sex—especially with you—it's not enough. I need to know we're going through this life—both the good _and _the bad—as partners."

The tears were back. God, I'd really fucked everything up—worse than ever.

Joe looked up at the ceiling and said, "The day I went to ask for your dad's blessing to marry you, he said the most profound thing I think I've ever heard."

Sniffling, I stared at him in wonder. "_My_ father?"

"Yep. He told me when you get married you can't just say your vows. You have to _live _them each and every day. He said if you and I can learn the difference, there's no limit to the happiness we can have in our marriage."

_Whoa._ That _was_ profound and completely unlike my father. I'd never thought of his marriage to my mother as being pure bliss, but I guess in a way he was living proof of his statement. After all he'd been putting up with Grandma Mazur all of these years, hadn't he?

"I _want _to live my vows, Joe. I'm just so fucking scared," I acknowledged in a hoarse voice. "About being a wife, being pregnant—Oh God—being somebody's mom. I'll do anything you ask—just please don't leave me."

He blew out his breath, trying to release some tension. "I'm still beyond pissed, but I'm not going anywhere, Cupcake. I would hope you'd know me better than that. It's going to be hard as hell, but we'll find a way through all of this."

"What should I do?"

"The first thing is to call and get an appointment with your doctor so we can find out how far along you really are. I'm sure he'll order a DNA test of some sort, and we'll take it from there."

"I don't want to say anything to anyone—including Ranger—until we have to," I fretted.

He shook his head. "Much as I'd like to agree to that, I can't."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He _wanted _to tell Ranger?

Joe saw my confused expression and went on, "The last person I want to even _see _right now is Manoso, but after I left here earlier, I spent the afternoon driving around. Once I finished cursing the day I'd ever let you back into my life," he paused to roll his eyes, "I started thinking a little more rationally. I know you don't want this pregnancy—regardless of whose baby it is—but it's not just about what you want anymore."

I nodded reluctantly.

"I also started thinking about what if the situation were reversed, and I was in Ranger's position. I'd want to know if there was even a _chance _the baby might be mine."

"Yes, but you're not Ranger," I reminded him. "Look at how he's handled fatherhood with the child he has. I'm not so sure he'll be thrilled to hear he might have another offspring to provide for."

"Oh I think he'd be _incredibly_ happy to father a child with you," Joe argued sardonically. When he saw my mouth opening to protest again, he hastily added, "Regardless he has a right to know, and—whether I like it or not—the fact remains he helped me from going to prison or possibly losing my life during the Kennard case. I owe him at least this much. We'll tell him together."

"You'd do that for me?"

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you face him alone about something like this. Even if he is the father of this baby, _I'm _still your husband."

"Thank you," I murmured.

"If it did happen when you think, there's still a fifty-fifty chance the baby's mine, and I'm willing to take that bet."

"You are?"

"Sure." A ghost of a smile crossed his face, and he answered cockily. "I'm a _Morelli_, aren't I? We're an incredibly virile species unto our own."

I couldn't even bring myself to smile. "I'm not up for jokes."

"Who's joking?" he raised his eyebrow defiantly. Pulling us both to our feet, he led me back out into the living room and grabbed our coats. "Come on. We need to find you something to eat. There's nothing at the house, so let's swing by ShopRite and get some groceries. If you leave your truck here, I'll drop you off in the morning to pick it up."

"Okay." I probably would have agreed to anything as long as he was still speaking to me. "But what about Tony?" I hadn't even given a thought to what had happened at the precinct that morning.

"I'll tell you once you've had something to eat." His brown eyes captured mine. "No matter what happens, you've got to start taking care of yourself, okay? As I said, it's not all about you any longer."

I nodded, as he helped me slip on my coat, feeling completely exhausted. "Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me?"

Opening the door, he responded noncommittally, "You need to give me time to work through my feelings. It's not like I don't have anything else weighing on my brain right now."

"I'm sorry to add to your burdens—"

He slipped a hand over my mouth. "Stop. You could never be a burden to me. I'd like to wring your neck sometimes, but you're never a burden." Removing his hand, he continued in a raspy voice, "I still love you, Stephanie. There's _nothing _that can change that fact—no matter how hurt and angry I am right now. But if you want to have a real marriage with me, you _have _to stop the lies and deceit. It's that simple."

"I will, I—"

I stopped when I noticed his pained expression.

"Probably better not promise or swear anything to me right now," he advised cynically.

Nodding, I reached for my bag and opened the door.

"Cupcake?"

"Yeah?" I glanced over my shoulder.

"If you _are_ pregnant with my child, I'll be the happiest man on earth. You know that, right?"

"Yes," I responded simply. "And if it's Ranger's?"

His body stiffened but he responded evenly. "Then we'll figure it out."

At that moment, I uttered the first of what would become countless prayers in hopes we wouldn't have to figure it out. _Dear God!_


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Glad you all seemed to be okay with the last chapter. This is some tough stuff to write about-let me tell you! I wanted to send a shout-out of thanks to those of you who have left reviews whom I can't private message back. Thanks so much for your encouraging words.

Julie, THANK YOU for reading all these chapters ahead of time, so that I know I'm on the right track. It's nice to know now you're not a mass murderer. LOL!

* * *

Chapter Three

It was almost seven o'clock by the time Joe and I walked into the house, our arms filled with grocery bags and our hearts heavy with anxiety. After the emotional confrontation at my apartment, we'd both found ourselves slowly disconnecting from one another. As a result, the trip to ShopRite had been completed in almost total silence other than to make decisions on what to purchase, including a box of peanut butter-filled crackers for me to munch on while we made our way up and down the aisles. Neither of us knew what to say to the other, and the distance between us was awkward at best and achingly painful at worst.

We had no sooner stepped into the kitchen than poor Bob practically bowled me over in his panic to get outside after having been left to fend for himself all day.

"Crap," Joe muttered before hastily dropping his load and taking off after the dog.

Shaking my head, I started putting items away—all the while fighting another wave of weariness. If I was that tired after having napped part of the afternoon, I could only imagine how exhausted Joe must be, considering he hadn't had but four hours of sleep the previous night. The knowledge he had to deal not only with Tony's arrest but my issues as well made my stomach churn, and yet I was determined not to get sick again. I hadn't had anything but those crackers all day and was now starving.

I was in such a daze that when the phone rang I answered purely on reflex.

"Hello?"

"Stephanie!"

_Shit. _It was my mother.

"Hi, Mom."

"Thank God! I've been a worried sick about the two of you! Why on earth haven't you returned my calls? Was your plane delayed? Are you ill? How was the honeymoon? Oh, and what's happening with Joseph's brother? I so wanted you to come to din—"

"Mom."

"—ner. We had ham and scalloped potatoes, and I know how much the two of you enjoy those. It _really_ was quite a lovely meal. Your father and grandmother didn't have a single argument. Of—"

"_Mom_."

"—course your grandmother was practically inhaling her food. There's a big viewing for Melvin Lipinski at Stiva's tonight, so she was—"

"Mother!"

"What?"

"Hello."

"Oh—hello, dear. Did you have a good time in Barbados?"

I knocked my head twice against one of the cupboards and wondered if she'd been slipping into the pantry again. "It was perfect," I responded truthfully, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat. _And it had been_. It was hard to fathom only two nights ago I'd been on the beach basking in my husband's arms.

"Why haven't you called me?"

I figured if I was going to stop lying to Joe, I should probably stop being evasive with everyone else in my life as well. However, the agony of telling my mother about an unwanted pregnancy was more than I could handle, and so I opted for minimal information. "I haven't felt a hundred percent today, and Joe's been busy with Tony."

"I couldn't believe it when I heard about that boy's arrest! Not that I should have been surprised really. I mean look at his behavior at the wedding."

"Hmmm," I responded noncommittally.

"Those Morelli's—"

I could tell she was ready to launch into another diatribe regarding Joe's brothers, and I simply wasn't up to it. "Mom, it's good to hear from you. I'm sorry we weren't able to come for dinner, but the truth is Joe and I just walked in the door, and we're about to start dinner ourselves. I promise I'll try to stop by one day this week, okay?"

"I suppose," she relented unenthusiastically. "Get some rest, and we'll talk later. Tell Joseph I said hello."

"Sure."

I placed the cordless back onto the receiver and noticed Rex's empty cage sitting on the counter. Just when I thought I'd shed every imaginable tear, my eyes filled yet _again_. Leaning my elbows on the counter next to the metal box, I buried my head in my hands. To not even have had the chance to say good-bye to him was breaking my heart.

Behind me Joe burst back into the kitchen, holding an out-of-control Bob by the collar. "I had to chase him clear down to Hamilton," he groused irritably. "He caught scent of a rabbit in the yard and was gone."

Rising up, I kept my back to him and hastily swiped at my eyes. "What do you want to do about dinner?"

I heard the door shut, and Bob take off down the hallway after something. Moments later Joe was standing next to me looking at the cage as well. "Want me to put it out in the garage?" he asked quietly.

"I suppose."

Joe opened his mouth to say something else but changed his mind. Instead he simply picked up the cage and headed back outside, leaving me standing there alone and grief-stricken. In less than twelve hours we'd gone from newlyweds to barely speaking. Worse yet, I didn't have a clue as to how I could possibly fix the mess I'd caused or how to heal his hurt regarding my actions. The situation felt hopeless.

Deciding I wasn't up to eating after all, I had to force myself to take an apple from the fridge before going upstairs. Once there I paused in the doorway to the guest bedroom and thought of Tony. I still had no idea what had transpired down at the precinct that morning. The unmade bed was also a glaring reminder I didn't even know whether Joe would want to sleep with me or not. The whole situation was depressing; although I harbored no misunderstanding it was all my doing. I'd quite literally made two beds in the past, and now there was a chance I'd have to lay in the one I didn't want.

I was still standing in the hallway between the guest bedroom and ours when Joe came up the stairs. "What are you doing?" He looked at me strangely.

"I don't know where you want me to sleep," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders.

I'm not sure what reaction I was expecting from him, but it certainly wasn't the one I received.

"Don't start pulling this kind of crap, Stephanie."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, looking totally bewildered.

He just glared at me. "The "woe-is-me-look-at-what-I've-done-I-don't-deserve-anything-good-in-life-ever-again" kind of crap. The last thing I need is you acting like a martyr."

My eyes narrowed. "I'm not. I simply don't want to upset you any more."

"Well I didn't ask for this, so stop. We're married. I think we can manage to sleep in the same damn bed."

He moved dismissively past me into our room and started removing his clothes in an efficient, albeit frustrated, manner. "What sounds good to your stomach for dinner?"

I stood in the doorway, admiring the muscles in his abdomen as he pulled off his shirt. My body instinctively began to warm in all the right places, but I knew there was no point in acting upon those feelings. The atmosphere in there was getting downright chilly. "I have an apple. That's good enough."

He got even more agitated. "No, it's NOT good enough. I thought we were in agreement you were going to take care of yourself which means eating regularly and intelligently." He yanked on a pair of sweatpants, but left his shirt off—most likely to torture my overactive libido. "So what do you want?"

"I want you to remove whatever stick is up your ass and stop snarking at me."

He paused in the middle of tossing his jeans into the corner hamper and scowled. "If that's your way of saying I care about the health of you and our baby, then—yes—I guess I'm snarking. Deal with it."

_Our baby_. I wanted so badly to believe it was indeed our baby, but my guilt wouldn't allow me to hope—especially when Joe was being so cool and matter-of-fact toward me. "I can take care of finding something to eat myself."

"No, you can't. You don't even know how to—" He stopped mid-sentence and put his hand to his forehead, rubbing it wearily. Fatigue was clearly winning the battle over his self-control.

Dropping his arm, he looked at me with a softer expression. "I'm sorry, Cupcake."

"Me too—more than you'll ever know." I responded quietly, no doubt referring to something much greater than his irritability.

He flinched slightly. "I meant—"

"I know what you meant, and I also know you're exhausted."

He gave a brief nod. "I am, but you don't need me to take it out on you."

How could he _still_ be considerate toward me after what I'd done? Other than Rex, I'd never experienced unconditional love before. And while what Joe was offering me certainly didn't come without conditions—after all, he _was_ expecting me never to lie again—his care and concern was truly humbling. It gave me the courage to try and give something back—despite my feelings of unworthiness.

"Believe it or not, I think I can manage to put something together for both of us without burning down the house."

"You're sure? I'm remembering Manoso's kitchen, and—"

"Funny," I made a face. "Will you at least let me try? Lay down for a minute, and I'll bring back something healthy for both of us."

He looked doubtful but obediently lay down on top of the bed. Closing his eyes, he was more than likely asleep before I left the room.

Back in the kitchen, I examined the refrigerator's contents with a frown. Nothing looked like what I'd normally feed my body, which once again made me ill tempered. I didn't _want _to eat healthy food. Finally I settled on grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, thinking neither could be too difficult to assemble. Of course Bob was immediately by my side looking for a handout. Without thinking, I reached back into the fridge to get him a carrot when it dawned on me I was looking for a Rex-sized treat. _God, would I ever get over losing one of my best friends? _I quickly closed the door and tossed him a piece of bread instead.

The sandwiches were set to go on the burner when there was a loud knock at the door.

Bob went berserk and started scratching at the door. "Hush!" I commanded, worried he'd wake Joe.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Tony and Mooch standing there. They both looked pissed but for completely different reasons. Tony was piss drunk, and Mooch was just plain pissed.

"Why _there_ she is," Tony called out happily. "My beautiful new sister-in-law. How are you, Stephie? Looking gorgos—I mean gor-ge-ous as ever."

Mooch gave a low growl of disgust. "Where's that new husband of yours?" he demanded in irritation.

"Upstairs sleeping. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" Mooch repeated, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "I think it's quite obvious what's going on."

"I meant how did he get this way?"

"Shirley and I left him for one stinking hour to run over to five o-clock mass. Her mother's been bitching all week we needed to make an appearance." He jerked his head toward Tony. "When we got home, idiot boy here had already made a pretty thorough dent in our liquor cabinet. I never even thought to lock it before we left." Shrugging his shoulders, he added, "Listen, I told Joe I'd watch him this afternoon, but I got to get home. He's on your watch now." He leaned in to brush a kiss across my cheek. "Welcome home."

"Thanks—" I started to say, but he'd already closed the door, anxious to leave and with good reason as far as I was concerned.

I frowned at my new brother-in-law, who was trying to steady himself against the counter. "Really—again? What is with you, Tony? Don't you have enough problems without doing this to yourself and your family?"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head over me, beautiful," he tapped forcefully at his own skull. "I was celebrating the fact I'm now flee—oops, I mean _free—_from being a husband and father." It was obvious from the look on his face he'd been doing the exact opposite—drowning his sorrows over Angelina and the kids, along with everything else happening in his life.

"Why don't you go home?"

"I can't," he shook his head carefully. "Angelina says I've been a very bad husband, but what does she know, huh? She doesn't even know what bad is." He took a step closer toward me and tried to smile sexily. Instead he looked like a sloppy puppy with overeager eyes and a floppy tongue. "I bet _you _know what bad is, don't you Stephie. I've always thought you'd be a very bad girl to get to know." He stepped even closer and put his hand out to touch my arm.

I stepped back. "Are you out of your mind? Go upstairs and sleep off whatever the hell it is you've done to yourself. I'm not putting up with your stupidity."

He gave a drunken chuckle. "You're feisty! I _love _a feisty woman. I bet you're a real handful in bed too. Yessiree, I bet you keep my baby brother _real_ satisfied. No wonder he's so damn pospess—I mean poss-ess-ive of you." He took the chance and ran a finger down my arm. "Babe—"

Slapping at his hand, I said angrily, "Don't call me babe. Now leave me alone before I call for Joe."

"Joey's here?" he threw up his hands and twirled around. "Well _where_ is he? I don't see him." He pretended to look under the table. "Come out, come out wherever you are," he sang.

"Would you _please_ be quiet_? _I always thought of you as a hapless idiot, Tony, but I can see you're way more than that."

"I am," he agreed seriously, moving toward me once more. "I'm _way _more, Stephie. More than you could ever hope to handle. Come here, babe, and I'll give you a free sample." He reached awkwardly for me again.

"I said _don't _call me that. I don't want to hear that word." He gripped my arms and pulled me closer. "Quit it, Tony!"

"Get—your—hands—off—my—wife," Joe spoke in a deadly tone from the foot of the stairs. "Now."

Tony gave another laugh but stepped away, dropping my arms. I immediately wrapped them around my stomach.

"Don't get your briefs in a bunch," he smiled good-naturedly. "We were just playing."

Two seconds later Joe had him up against the wall and his hand around his throat. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching my wife that way?"

"I didn't do anything she didn't want," he smiled. "Tell him, beautiful."

_What? _I immediately felt compelled to defend myself. "That's not true, Joe! I—"

"Go upstairs, Stephanie," he directed, never moving his eyes from Tony's face. "I'll bring dinner up in a minute."

"But—"

He turned his head toward me, his eyes burning so fiercely I immediately headed for the stairs. I waited at the top of the landing though and shamelessly eavesdropped.

"Listen to me, you worthless piece of shit. The _only _reason I agreed to help you is because Ma begged me. You got that? I could care _less_ what happens to you, and I don't think you care either; otherwise, you would've given me a hell of a lot more information down at the station today. You have _no idea_ what a mess you're in. I'm not even sure your sorry ass can be saved. But I'll tell you this. If you so much as look at Stephanie in the wrong way again, I'll hurt you in ways you can't even begin to imagine. And I'll do everything I can to make sure they lock you away. You know I can do both, Tony, so don't mess with me."

"You're making something over _nothing_. Steph knows I was only fooling around with her. Who wouldn't? She's a little hellcat—"

_Oomph!_

I heard the sound of Joe's fist hitting his brother's stomach and cringed. I felt horrible about what was transpiring, although not about the fact that Tony was now coughing and sputtering. Served him right—the perverted creep! No, my feeling came from the fact that once again I was causing my husband trouble, albeit not by my choice.

"Don't _touch_ her. Don't _talk_ about her. Don't _look_ at her."

"Tough talk from a Mama's baby," Tony taunted and then sneered, "You _owe _me, Joey. You hear me? You owe_ ME _for this perfect little life of yours, or have you forgotten what I did for you as a kid?_"_

"If there _is_ a debt, the payment sure as hell won't be my wife. You've got one night to sober your drunken ass. Tomorrow—you're gone. Now get out of my face before I change my mind!"

Tony stumbled toward the stairs—still coughing, and I beat a hasty retreat for our bedroom, shutting the door behind me. _Could this miserable day possibly get any worse? _Quickly changing into a t-shirt and sweats, I huddled on top of the bed with a pillow over my abdomen. What could I have done to cause such a reaction?

Ten minutes later Joe came in carrying a tray with two bowls of soup and plates with sandwiches and fruit. Neither of us said anything for several moments while he arranged everything on the floor for easy access. Before he even had it ready, I could hear Tony's hellacious snores once again coming from the other side of the wall in our room. I slid off the bed and took Joe's hand.

In a hushed voice, I said, "I know I'm not supposed to say "I promise" to you right now, but you have to believe me when I say I didn't do anything—"

"Of _course _I know that!" he interrupted; looking perturbed I'd even felt the need to explain. "He's my brother, for Christ's sake. I know _exactly_ what he's like. I'm so fucking mad right now, I could seriously hurt him." He gave my hand a quick squeeze and then released it. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I just don't understand why he'd do something like that?" I sounded as bewildered as I felt. "What did I do—?"

"Nothing. You did absolutely nothing wrong, so don't start blaming yourself."

Joe stretched his neck, trying work out the kinks. "I _told_ you in Barbados he's changed in the past year. His drinking is out of control, and he has no boundaries when it comes to women. He's under this crazy delusion everyone in our family owes him after all the abuse he took from my father on our behalf." Exhaling loudly, he added, "Hell, I don't know anymore. Maybe he's right."

"Stop. He's _not_ right, and you _do _know that. He made a misguided choice as a kid. He needed help then, _and _he definitely needs help now." Picking up a sandwich, I took a bite and practically moaned from how good it tasted to my abused stomach. "I still don't understand why he came on to me though. That's the second time," I noted, remembering what had happened after our wedding ceremony.

Leaning his head wearily against the side of the bed, Joe left his food untouched. "He's always made little comments to me about you through the years, but he's never been so in-my-face about it before. I told you on the beach last week I thought it was maybe jealousy on his part, but I really think it's something else."

"What?"

"I think he's punishing me somehow for what he endured as a kid, and I _know_ he's furious I've refused to follow in his footsteps like Paul." He turned toward me with a serious expression. "Remember last week how I asked you to be careful around them?" Seeing me nod, he continued, "Now I'm asking you to not be alone with _either_ of them—at least until they get their acts together and we figure out this mess of Tony's."

"What _is _the mess exactly? What happened this morning?" I asked, still steadily chewing. For the first time all day, I felt at peace doing my favorite two things—eating and being with Joe. Our own drama had shifted to the back burner momentarily. Tony's behavior had not only allowed us to focus on something else, but it had provided a way for us to communicate without that awful strain between us. At that point, I'd take whatever I could get.

Joe ran a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed, and I ached to bury my fingers into the silky strands. "It was pretty much what I expected," he acknowledged with frustration. Rogers was there and let me know in no uncertain terms I wouldn't be having anything to do with the investigation."

"Did he at least let you know the charges?"

He nodded. "I got a look at the arrest sheet—three counts of first degree possession and attempt to distribute."

"_Three_ counts?" I was shocked.

"Yeah. The house also contained heroin and ecstasy. It's a big-time operation, Steph—one I've helped Vice bust in the past. The current players may be new, but I know most of those arrested. They were part of a group Paul hung out with in high school."

"But Paulie wasn't there, right? Just Tony?"

"That's what the report said."

"What did _Tony_ say?"

"Not a hell of a lot. He claims he was only there to visit Myrna Flowers—the woman who was arrested. Evidently they've been having an affair for about six weeks."

I didn't know any Myrna Flowers but that wasn't surprising. Paul and Tony were significantly older than Joe, and I didn't know anyone from their circle of friends.

"So Tony alleges he knew nothing of the drugs and—what—just went over there to screw her? That doesn't make much sense."

"You don't have to convince me, but that's what he swears. Says he was merely talking to Myrna out in the driveway when the police raided the house, which is true. Everyone else was in the garage where they were cooking up a new batch of Meth."

"Bet he didn't know _anything _about _that_," I surmised sarcastically.

"Of course not." he rolled his eyes. "I still haven't been able to talk to Paul. Adrienne says he hasn't been home much lately—that he's either working or God knows where else." Joe tried to hide a yawn. "If I have time tomorrow, maybe I'll try to track him down at work. I doubt I will though. I looked at my desk before I left, and I'll be swamped this whole week. I've got court on Thursday and Friday for some of the officers arrested in the Kennard case."

The madness surrounding Joe right now seemed never-ending. I felt compelled to make the same offer as I had the night before. "What can I do to help?"

I was still eating and had long since turned from my food to Joe's. Noticing his practically empty plate, he looked at me and gave sort of a half-smile. "The most important thing is for you to take care of yourself and the baby." My mouth immediately opened to protest, and he hastened to add, "But I know you want to do more, so here's what will help both of us. One is to call your doctor in the morning and get an appointment as soon as possible. The other is to go back over to the apartment and get your personal things packed. I want Tony out of here, but I need a place for him to stay until I have time to talk with Angelina or before his case goes before the grand jury."

"I can do both. It might be after work before I can get to the apartment, but I'll take care of it. I have to ask though—why is everybody in such a rush to babysit him? He has a job and car, right? Let him find his own place to stay. You're all a bunch of enablers as far as I'm concerned."

Joe shook his head. "He can't drive per terms of the bond agreement, because he's considered a flight risk, and I learned this morning he was fired a month ago for being drunk on the job."

My mouth dropped open. "What are Angelina and the kids doing for money?"

"I have no idea. Like I said, I just found out this morning." He paused and gave me a sly look. "You know if you _really _wanted to help—"

"No." I immediately shook my head vigorously.

"Come on, Cupcake. You did it before."

"That was before I became a part of this family," I whined. "If I blow things now, there will be hell to pay with your mother."

"Are you kidding? Going to visit Angelina to find out what's going on with her will elevate you to _sainthood_ in my mother's eyes."

I looked at him flirtatiously. "Yes, but will it get me back into _your _good graces?" As soon as I said the words, I wanted to reach out and shove them back into my mouth.

I thought for sure he'd close up on me, but instead his voice turned almost wistful. "You have no idea how badly I want to wake up tomorrow morning and find that today was a terrible nightmare. Tony hadn't been arrested, Rex hadn't died, you hadn't screwed around on me—or at the very least confessed to me what had happened before getting caught, and we'd spent the entire day in bed having amazing sex on the last day of our honeymoon. But mostly, I wish we could go back to that moment when you told me you were pregnant—only this time there'd be no doubt in your mind and you'd be glowing with joy over the idea of having my baby."

My eyes couldn't help but fill once again. "Me too," I admitted in shame. "I'm sor—"

He put a finger to my mouth. "Stephanie, I know you feel guilty about what happened this afternoon. I get it. I'm not trying to punish you, and I'm certainly not as angry as I was. But the reality is I'm still trying to process it all. Worse yet, I feel like I can't trust you, and that's killing me after what we experienced together in Barbados."

I bent my head, nodding in understanding.

"Just now when we were talking about Tony I forgot everything else for a moment, and I felt connected to you again. I want that feeling back permanently," he confessed huskily. "I just don't know how to get there right now. With everything else going on, it's too much, and I need time and space. Can you understand that?"

"I suppose," I answered reluctantly. "Just please don't give up on me—or on us, Joe. There's no question I fucked things up big time by not being honest with you about Ranger. I'll regret it for the rest of my life. But I want to prove to you I _can_ be trusted. I want back what we've been building these past few weeks."

"You think I don't?" he demanded roughly. "Not being in sync with you makes me feel like I'm only half alive right now. But I won't be taken for granted, and I surely won't be pussy-whipped again. My ego has taken enough of a beating thanks to you and your stupid games."

"But since your ultimatum to me last month, I haven't spoken a single lie to you," I pointed out desperately. "If you believe nothing else, you _need _to believe that. Every word, every vow, every physical action—_everything_ between us has been grounded in trust and truth."

He gave an indifferent shrug. "That's not even registering with me right now. I'm worn out, and my brain is fried."

"Then what's the point?" I asked in frustration. "Why am I even here if you're going to shut me out?"

"You're here for the same reason I am—because we made a commitment to each other, and somehow we're going to find a way to work through this. After everything we've been through, you're saying you can't be patient with me for a little while longer?"

I frowned. "Patience isn't my virtue, remember? It's yours."

He leaned over and spoke suggestively in my ear. "Yes, but don't you think I'm worth the wait?"

A bolt of electricity jolted through my sensory system, causing me to both sweat and stutter. "Y-y-you know that I do."

"And I think _you're_ worth the effort of finding a way to forgive. So are you willing to give me time and space?"

Turning my head so that our lips were almost touching, I pledged half-heartedly, "I am."

A flash of approval swept over Joe's face. "That's my girl. I do love you, Cupcake."

"I love you too."

He pulled back and got to his feet, leaving me feeling rejected despite his words to the contrary. "I'll take this stuff downstairs while you get ready for bed. We both need sleep before we get back to reality tomorrow."

Five minutes later, he crawled into bed beside me, gave a chaste peck to my forehead and rolled over. "Goodnight."

"Night," I repeated dully, feeling restless and edgy. While I knew I was responsible for the situation I was in, I still felt frustrated and impatient with Joe. Why couldn't he see I was being sincere in my willingness to change? His love and desire for me had _always _overridden any anger toward me in the past.

Within minutes I could hear his steady breathing. He'd fallen asleep? How was that even possible the way Tony was going at it? Getting grumpier by the minute, I realized I was still hungry, and it wasn't for something healthy either. In fact, I was unexpectedly ravenous for ice cream—copious amounts of cold Chubby Hubby. And I knew it just so happened we had some left over in the freezer from before Barbados.

Sneaking past the guest bedroom and Tony's snorts, I went downstairs and found the freezer in the dark. Carton and spoon in hand, I made my way over to the window and peered outside while digging into the creamy goodness. _My God! _It was _almost _as good as a Morelli orgasm. Of course at the rate Joe and I were going, ice cream might be the closest I came to an orgasm for the foreseeable future.

Standing there, I listened to the silence in the kitchen. Something just didn't seem right, and it hit me that the comforting squeak of Rex's wheel no longer filled the air. _Damn it! _I was going to start crying again. If only I could have seen him before he died or been there to say good-bye and give him a little burial—something!

I have no idea what came over me next. Perhaps it was pregnancy hormones. Perhaps it was divine intervention. Perhaps it was my own insanity. In any case, I suddenly _knew _I needed to get Rex back. It was Sunday night, which meant tomorrow was trash pick-up day. I had to get over to Mrs. Kubacki's garbage bin and find Rex _tonight _before he was permanently taken from me.

Three minutes later, I was back in the kitchen, sweatpants on my body, sneakers on my feet and a flashlight in my latex-covered hands. Finding my coat, some trash bags and a Tupperware container, I headed out the door and down the street to Mrs. Kuback's row house. Sure enough— there was her receptacle standing by the curb.

Quietly lifting the lid, my stomach immediately rolled at the smells coming from inside the container. I cursed the fact I'd forgotten to bring a mask with me, but I was in too much of a hurry to go back. After all, it _was_ the end of October and pretty darn cold outside. The sleeve of my coat would have to do.

I opened one of the trash bags I'd brought, and then undid one of those inside the bin. Slowly and meticulously, I held the flashlight with one hand, and sifted through the bag with the other. Unfortunately, that didn't allow me to cover my nose, and the smells were definitely making me nauseous. Stubborn determination refused to allow me to quit, however, and I kept at it for several more minutes, until finally I leaned over and lost my dinner in the street gutter.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Joe's voice hissed from behind me as I finished.

I'd been so caught up in getting sick; I hadn't even noticed his approach, carrying another flashlight in his hand.

"Looking for Rex," I responded with a groan. I was sitting on the curb, clutching my stomach.

"Have you lost your mind!"

"No! I'm perfectly sane. I remembered tomorrow's trash day, and I couldn't let them take Rex," I explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world to look for a dead hamster in your neighbor's garbage at ten o'clock at night.

Joe was silent for several long moments, and I could barely make out his face staring down at his shoes in the darkness. Surely his jaw was having spasms by now.

"What's that God-awful smell?" he finally asked in disgust.

"Could be the trash bin or the gutter. I just got sick."

He sighed heavily. "No matter what I say, you're not going to give up on this asinine idea, are you."

"No."

"And you do realize I should leave you here to handle this yourself, right?"

"Right."

Silence.

"Shit."

"Sorry."

"Why can't I be smart for once in my life and just leave you?"

"Cause you love me?"

"Shit," he said again.

More silence.

Finally he sighed and said, "Give me the damn gloves."

I quickly took them off and handed them to him. "Thank you."

Shooting me with a long-suffering look, he added, "I'll have you know this _completely_ makes up for your having to search for those keys I threw into that dumpster all those years ago. Got it?"

"Got it."

Another heavy sigh.

"All right then—let's hurry up and do this. You think if you keep your arm over your nose, you can hold the light?"

"Yeah."

We silently went to work. Piece after piece, he sorted through each bag, grumbling and cursing under his breath the whole time. About halfway through the process, the houselights came on next door, and Old Man Fratelli stuck his head out of his bedroom window.

"You! What do you kids think you're doing out there? Get away from that trash bin. What are you—some kind of vagrants? Move or I'm calling the police!"

"Fuck," Joe cursed in embarrassment and exasperation. "I _am _the police," he called back quietly. "It's me, Mr. Fratelli—Joe Morelli."

"What? Speak up! You say that's you, Morelli? What the hell you doing out there?" he shouted.

"Feeling like an idiot," Joe muttered under his breath. Aloud he called back, "Looking for something my wife lost. We won't be much longer. Sorry to have disturbed you, sir."

"Well hurry up!"

By then more lights had flipped on, and neighbors were gathering on their porches and in the street.

"What'd she lose?" Mrs. Herrel asked, coming closer.

"I bet it was her wedding ring," Mr. Gorvich predicted.

"In Louise's garbage?" Mrs. Rupp broke in, aghast.

Soon Mrs. Kubacki herself joined us—her bathrobe flapping and her hair curlers wrapped in toilet paper. "Joseph? What on earth are you doing?"

Poor Joe. He was going to kill me. I would be dead to him by morning—I just knew it.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kubacki," I answered. "It's my fault. I've been distraught over Rex all day, and I couldn't sleep without being able to say good-bye to him."

"Rex? Who's Rex?" asked Mrs. Herrel to the group at large.

"Is it a man?" Mrs. Rupp shuddered. "In the garbage?"

"I wouldn't put it past her. She _is_ one of them bounty hunters, you know," Mr. Gorvich shook his head.

"Rex?" Mrs. Kubacki sounded confused. "Oh! Of course—the hamster!"

Throughout all of this, Joe had kept his head down, singularly focused on finding Rex so we could go home. I was about ready to give up, in hopes I might somehow save my own life, when Mrs. Kubacki said, "But, honey, I already buried him in my backyard."

"You did!" I was overjoyed.

Joe looked up from the trash bin and the garbage surrounding him on the ground. "You did?"

"Yes! Didn't I tell you that this morning, Joseph?"

Sigh. "No, ma'am, you didn't."

"Well, I did—in his little soup can."

I was so relieved I started crying again. "Could—could I please have him back?"

"Why, certainly, dear. I'll just go dig him up."

"I've got a shovel in my garage," Mr. Gorvich offered and hustled off to get it.

"Thank you, Mrs. Kubacki. I know it seems silly, but he was one of my best friends."

"I understand," she patted my hand. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think he suffered."

It did. I felt _so _much better until I turned around and saw Joe systematically putting the garbage back into bags and returning them to the bin. In that moment, I realized what a selfish person I truly had become. Here was my husband—the man I'd vowed never to hurt—burdened with more than any man should have to endure. He was picking up garbage in the dark, for Christ's sake! Worse yet, not thirty minutes earlier I'd been angry with him for not providing me immediate absolution over my humiliating actions toward him.

He deserved nothing less than my patience and support, and I was determined to give him both.

Five minutes later, the garbage was picked up, the crowd had dispersed and Rex had been returned to me in his can. "Thank you," I said once more to Mrs. Kubacki before Joe and I turned toward home.

Neither of us said a word as we walked back, nor the whole time Joe spent digging a small hole in our own backyard, nor when I placed the can into the hole and whispered good-bye. After the last bit of dirt was patted into place, however, Joe tossed the shovel aside and pulled me into his arms. "I shouldn't have expected anything less from you, Cupcake. Like his owner, Rex was one of a kind."

Wiping my tears, I nodded my head. "So are you, Morelli." Beneath the stars, I searched his eyes with my own. "Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"Take all the time you need, okay? I'll wait as long as it takes."

His breath caught and his arms squeezed me harder as he whispered in my ear. "Thank you."

Without another word, we went back upstairs and got back into bed. We were both exhausted now, and not even the buzz saw in the next room was going to keep me awake. I had just about drifted off when Joe reached across the space between us and laid his hand protectively over my stomach.

It was still there when I awakened the following morning.


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews, especially to those whom I can't thank personally.

Also, thank you, Julie, for giving this a second set of eyes. I truly appreciate your help and encouragement.

* * *

Chapter Four

Joe's alarm went off at six thirty the following morning. Moments later the arm that had held my stomach so protectively throughout the night moved reluctantly to stop the offending noise. It was still dark outside, and I could hear a steady rain beating on the roof and windowpanes.

Great—a rainy Monday.

Still half-asleep, I kept my eyes closed to see if he would initiate any physical contact with me. After all, it _was_ a new morning. With his libido, he couldn't stay mad forever, could he?

Joe rolled back onto his side, facing me. Even without seeing his face, I immediately sensed there was a battle being waged between head and heart—his sense of masculine pride versus his physical desire for me. It took everything in me to remain still. I'd made a commitment last night not to push him into forgiving me, and for once in my life, I intended to honor my word. Still it hurt knowing we hadn't had sex in three days. While we may have gone without for far longer periods of time in our relationship, we'd been practically insatiable since the wedding.

Giving up on the idea he might touch me, I assumed he was still angry and nearly jumped off the bed when his warm hand touch my cheek, gently caressing the soft skin there. Slowly his fingers feathered outward into my hair. Tiny butterfly kisses soon followed, fluttering across my forehead and eyelids. _Oh God, it felt so good_. I silently willed his mouth lower, wanting desperately to feel his lips on mine.

"Stephanie, you need to wake up," he said in a voice still raspy with sleep. "We have to get moving if I'm going to drop you back off at the apartment to get your truck."

_No! _My body wanted to stay in the cocoon of our bed and make love to my husband for as many times as it took to show him I'd never jeopardize our relationship again. I knew Joe had desire for me. The evidence of it was pressing insistently against my hip. Once more forcing back the need to beg for absolution, I pried my eyes open and smiled innocuously instead.

"I'll go get in the shower."

I think I surprised Joe with my response. I'm sure he'd expected me to be more aggressive in my quest for things to return the way they'd been prior to yesterday. He must have appreciated my restraint however, because he rewarded me with a slow, heart-stopping kiss. "I miss you, Cupcake," he confessed against my lips.

"I'm right here," I assured him and took a risk by placing my hand against his jaw line. The roughness of his morning beard felt so good beneath my fingers. How many times had the motion of it scraping across my skin excited me through the years?

He gazed down at me for a moment—still waging the battle—but then placed his forehead against mine and sighed. I sighed too, because I knew masculine pride had won the victory over desire.

"I can't," he stated simply.

I wasn't certain if he was more frustrated with himself or me. Disappointment flooded my system, but I kept the smile firmly in place. "It's okay. I understand."

Again Joe seemed to assess my sincerity. "I want to, Steph," he admitted. "God, you have no idea how much I want_ you_—more and more every day, but I can't have _just_ sex with you anymore."

"I said I understand."

He looked doubtful but pulled away. "Go ahead. I'll shower after you."

As soon as I moved to get up, I was assaulted by my first wave of nausea for the day. "Oh shit," I groaned, slowly laying my head back down.

"Sick again?"

"Yeah." I breathed deeply through my nose. "I _don't _want to puke with Tony here though. He'll get suspicious and start yapping to your family."

Joe frowned. "What other choice do we have? I need to drop you off at the apartment, Tony off at my mom's and get to the station no later than eight for a briefing with Rogers."

"I'll call Lula to come get me."

He raised an eyebrow sardonically. "You sure she can drive in _her _condition?"

It took me a moment, but as soon as I got the dig, my eyes narrowed. "Cute. Are you going to give me hell over that for that the rest of my life?"

"Probably."

"Good to know." I continued deep breathing through my nostrils.

He actually smiled. "Seriously, you think she'll be able to come?"

"Positive—and I'm not moving until I know you and Tony are gone. But hurry, okay? Now that I'm thinking about it, the urge to hurl is getting really strong."

The battle was back in his eyes. "I hate knowing you're going to be sick here all by yourself."

"I'll be fine," I assured him with a wan smile. "It's all part of the consequences for my stupidity."

"Having my baby is not stupid," he claimed with an edge to his voice.

_My baby. _He needed to stop saying things like that; otherwise, he was going to be devastated if the baby _wasn't_ his. I quickly changed the subject. "What's Tony doing with your mom today?"

"He has a meeting at ten with his attorney."

"He has an attorney?" Now _my_ eyebrow was raised. This was news to me.

"I guess I forgot to tell you yesterday. He has some court-appointed, public defender working for him by the name of Richard Samuelson. Ever heard of him?"

"No, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. Have you?"

"I've heard the name, but our professional paths haven't crossed. We'll see if he's any good, and then decide if we need to hire someone with better-known credentials. At any rate, think you can have the apartment cleaned out by tonight."

"If that means Tony will be out of _here_, I'll have it packed, cleaned, stocked, decorated—whatever you want—by dinner time."

Joe looked at me with concern. "Just don't overdo it, okay? And don't forget you promised to eat intelligently too."

"Yes, Mother. I'll try to control myself with the Boston Crèmes." Seeing him open his mouth again, I hastily added, "_And _I'll call my doctor."

"Smart mouth." He tapped a finger against my lips. "Text me when you know the appointment, so I can get it on my calendar." He moved to get up, but at the last second leaned back in for one more kiss. "Despite what's going on between us, I have to tell you—the old saying about a woman glowing with pregnancy is true. You're beautiful, Steph."

My eyes widened in horror. "I'm glowing? I don't want to glow. If I glow, people will figure out I'm pregnant!"

"I'm pretty sure it's only obvious to me, but in a few more weeks, it won't matter what you do. People will know." He glanced at the clock and winced. "Shit, I really have to get going. "I'll call you later."

Clenching my teeth against the shifting bed, I waited while he rolled out and headed for the door. I tried offering a weak, "good luck your first day back", but it was too late. I must have looked sufficiently panicked, because somehow Joe managed to lunge for the wastebasket and shove it at me just in time.

I could only hope that Tony wouldn't hear me.

* * *

It was already after eight by the time I finished in the bathroom, cleaned up and managed to choke down a couple of pieces of toast with peanut butter. My body seemed to be making up for lost time since discovering I was indeed pregnant. I'd felt perfect during the first part of our honeymoon, so much so that when I'd suspected something on the day we were set to SCUBA dive, I'd been sure I was worrying over nothing. Since then, however, the morning sickness had been getting increasingly worse to the point where even _I _was getting concerned about the health of the baby inside of me.

Finally feeling a little more stable, I reached for the phone and called Lula's cell, leaving a message to swing by and pick me up on her way into the office. The next call was to Connie. Again I had to leave a message, saying I'd be a little late getting to work. Where was everyone?

The last call was the one I'd dreaded making for a myriad of reasons. I hated going to the OBGYN. I hated all doctors period. I hated the notion of what I'd have to endure over the next nine months—eighteen years if truth were told—and I _really _hated the fact I had to confess the need for a paternity test right out of the gate. I'd promised Joe I'd make the call though, so with fumbling fingers I dialed the number to my doctor's office.

"Partners in Women's Health," the vivacious voice of the receptionist sounded in my ear. Oh dear God, _not_ another Perky Patty!

"Yeah, Hi," I responded unenthusiastically. "This is Stephanie Plum…uh…Morelli. I mean it was Plum, but now it's Morelli.

"Yes, Mrs. Morelli. Are you calling for an appointment?"

"Yes."

"Annual or obstetric?"

"Huh?"

"Will this be an annual exam or an obstetric consultation?"

I took a big swallow. "Obstetric."

"Are you having difficulty conceiving or already pregnant?"

_Jesus! _Did she have to know everything? Why not ask me what position I thought we'd used to get pregnant, for God's sake. "I'm pregnant," I replied through slightly gritted teeth.

"Congratulations!" she gushed. "How far along?"

_Here was the tough part. _"I'm not certain."

"Oh. Okay, no problem. That happens. We all lose track of our cycle once in awhile. Who do you normally see?"

I had no idea. I was pretty sure it was a different doctor every time—whoever would see me long enough to give me a new prescription for birth control pills. "Does it really matter?"

"No. If you don't care, I'll just see who has the first available opening." There was silence, probably while she scanned her computer screen. "Dr. Schultz has an opening next Wednesday at three o'clock. Will that work?"

_Next Wednesday! _Joe and I would probably be divorced by next Wednesday if we didn't get started on figuring out this situation. "Isn't there anything sooner?" I begged. "I have a bit of a complication, and I'd—"

"Complication?" Patty's twin immediately went into crisis mode. "What is it? Are you bleeding? Having cramps? Feeling light-headed? What exactly?"

That sounded so simple compared to my reality. Gathering my courage, I responded, "No, other than some really bad morning sickness, I think I'm okay physically. The problem is that there seems to be a question of paternity."

"Oh." Silence. "Seems to be?"

"Fine. There _is _a question of paternity, okay?" I was mortified and getting testier by the minute. _Just find me a goddamned appointment!_

More silence met my response, and then she said, "I'll lock you into next Wednesday's appointment just to be safe, but I'll also keep your name here by the phone should a cancellation occur. Sometimes the doctors will slip in patients with urgent matters like this at the end of the day." Her voice took on a gentler tone. "If it were me, I'd want to get in as soon as possible too. I'll see what I can do."

"I'd appreciate it," I responded with as much dignity as I could muster and ended the call.

Immediately afterward I texted Joe as promised:

_Appt. next Wed. 3 pm. Soonest I could get. On waiting list. Love you._

Thirty seconds later, he responded:

_Next Wed? WTF!_

I couldn't help but smile. We both were definitely on the same wavelength in terms of our patience.

The sound of Lula's firebird reverberated throughout the neighborhood as she pulled up to the curb. Bob was immediately scratching at the door to get out. Out of habit, I turned to say good-bye to Rex only to see the empty counter space next to the fridge. Forcing back the tears, I quickly slipped on my fall jacket, gave Bob a love pat on the head and dashed through the rain to her car.

"Hey, thanks for picking me up," I said, sliding into the passenger's low-slung seat. "How are you?"

"The better question is how are _you?" _Lula asked with a quizzical look on her face. She was dressed once again in head-to-toe black and looked almost as intimidating as Tank.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? And what's with the funeral wear. Back to channeling your inner-Ranger?"

Lula just sat there staring at me, not even bothering to put the car in gear.

"What? What is it?" I asked, pulling down the visor to check myself in the little mirror. "Do I have peanut butter on my face or something?"

"_Damn_ girlie, everybody in the Burg's talkin' about you and Morelli being on the outs again. How could you do that to him after that big ass wedding he gave you?"

"WHAT!" I about jumped through the roof. "Where in the hell did you hear that?"

"Connie called last night to tell me. Said she heard it from Vinnie who heard it from Joyce Barnhart. Evidently Joyce went by your apartment to pick up some of her shit from when she was stayin' with you last month. Said she saw your truck there and went up, but when she got to the door, all she heard was crying and wailing and shit and left pronto. Said she didn't even bother to knock on the door or nothin'."

_Crap! Stay calm, Stephanie. _Inside I was practically shaking. If Joyce was blabbing this kind of babble to Vinnie, probably the whole Burg had heard the rumor by now. _Oh shit—my mother! Mrs. Morelli!_ If the grapevine got moving, how much longer before people would start guessing about my pregnancy?

I tried to gather my wits. "She's crazy. You know that. Why in the hell didn't you call _me_?"

"Because I'd already called and left you a message on Saturday without a call back," Lula retorted, her attitude kicking into gear. "So what? You sayin' it ain't true? Your truck_is_ over there, right?"

"Yes, because I was packing some of my personal stuff yesterday afternoon. Joe's brother is moving into my apartment for awhile, and I was trying to clear the place out."

"Tony?"

"Yeah."

"Well, know that's _one _of the rumors going around. Some folks are sayin' you fell in love with Tony at the wedding and are kickin' Joe to the curb for him. I heard from Chickie Manack down at the Donut Hole this morning that Tony and Joe had a regular showdown at the airport over you."

_This was fucking unbelievable!_ "And you believed her? For God's sake, _you _were at the airport with Joe and Tony, Lula! Did you see them having a showdown?"

"Well—_yeah_—I did."

"Because Tony was drunk! And he'd been arrested for soliciting a hooker. It had nothing to do with me!"

"_Were_ you crying in your apartment like Joyce said or what? Seems to me if you was crying, there must be some truth to what Barnhart's saying." Lula shook her head at me in disgrace. "You should have married Batman like I told you. Ain't _nobody_ gonna be cheatin' on thatman."

"Lula!"

"I'm just sayin'." She threw up her hands in self-defense. "You still haven't answered my question. _Were _you crying?"

Here was the first major test of my vow to Joe to stop lying. Now _technically _I think he meant I had to stop lying to him, but truthfully, I needed to stop lying period.

"Yes, I was crying."

Lula's eyes were huge. "So you're sayin' it's true? Damn, I always liked Morelli too."

_Someone just shoot me now. _"You just said I should have married _Ranger_! What are you drinking in that coffee cup?"

Ignoring my dig, she continued. "Why were you crying?"

"There are _many_ reasons for a person to cry," I answered, trying my best to keep my voice neutral.

"_Hunh. _Ain't that the truth," Lula grunted in agreement. She finally put the car in drive and headed down Slater. "So you're sayin' you and Morelli are okay?"

Again I opted for a limited response. "We slept in the same bed last night. Does that answer your question?"

"Not really. Sounds to me like you're dancing around the question."

"Rex died," I blurted, sounding sufficiently devestated. There! That was the truth and _part_ of the reason why I'd been crying.

"No shit?" Lula snuck a peek at me. "The Rexster? That sucks. What happened?"

"His heart gave out. We buried him last night."

"Well, I guess you did have a reason to cry then, didn't you?" she mused thoughtfully. "You better take out an ad in the paper or something. It might save you a lot of trouble in the days ahead."

"I'll keep that in mind—thanks," I said dryly. "Okay, enough about these crazy rumors. What's been happening at the office?"

"Girl, that Ranger's the shit."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been in charge this past week while Vinnie took some time off."

I suddenly remembered my phone conversation with Ranger prior to the wedding ceremony:

_"We're good, Babe. Now hurry up. You don't want to be late for your own wedding."_

_"No, I don't," I said confidently, and then whispered, "Thank you, Ranger. You've given me a priceless wedding gift today."_

_"Yeah? Well I've got another one for you too."_

_"What's that?"_

_"The Rangeman team has volunteered to help Vinnie out for the next week while you're on your honeymoon."_

"I didn't realize Ranger and his men were just going to take over. Did you and Connie take the week off too?"

"Hell no! I was teamed up with Tank. My boy's got some mad takedown skills that he's been sharing with me. Ranger too—course you already knew that, huh?" She gave me a sly look. "I've learned more in the past week, then in the past three years."

I don't know why that comment hurt, but it did. Trying hard to find some enthusiasm, I commented, "Sounds like you had quite a week. Is that why you're back in black?"

"Yep." Lula puffed up like a peacock. "Batman said I did a great job. Said he'd hire me in a heartbeat."

_Hunh. _Right. "That's cool, Lula," I tried to sound sincere. "I guess it'll be boring to be teamed back up with someone as inept as me."

"Boring!" she guffawed, slapping her beefy thigh. "Girlie, I been dying for you to get back. The place wasn't the same without you. I've got tons of this training shit to share with you."

Perking up a little, I smiled. "So then what are we waiting for? Let's get to work."

She shook her head. "Ain't nothin' to do today. The guys took care of it all last week. We're all caught up on skips—that is unless your brother-in-law and his cronies decide to go FTA."

"Oh." There was that feeling of disappointment again. I'd only been gone for ten days, and yet it felt like my whole world had changed while I was gone. It was unsettling—almost as unsettling as my stomach, which was starting to act up again.

Lula went on, "Connie and Vinnie took the day off too. I was planning on spendin' the day with Tank, but I got your message this morning and thought I'd better check on you."

"I appreciate your concern _and _the ride, but as you can see I'm fine."

"Looking a little green if you ask me. Suntans must not agree with you. Either that or you been eatin' too much Island food."

"I'm not green."

She pulled the Firebird into the parking lot of my apartment and parked next to my Chevy Colorado pick-up in all its _non_-glory.

"Man, you should have kept the Rav4," Lula shook her head disgustedly.

"Hard to hold on to something when someone keeps stealing it," I retorted, referring to Lula's former love-potion devotee, Buggy Bugkowski.

She snorted. "That Buggy was a trip. Annie Hart and her love potion too." She looked the truck over again. "Does it still smell like marijuana?"

"Yes," I sighed. "But it runs, and it hasn't been bombed, so there you go."

"Fuckin-A," Lula agreed. "You wanna go get some breakfast? I could go for some biscuits, sausage and gravy over at Denny's."

My stomach immediately protested at the mention of meat. "I better pass. I promised Joe I'd get this place packed up today. Now that I don't have to work, I can do it faster. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?"

"S'alright," she nodded.

Opening the passenger door, I prepared to make a dodge through the rain. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Glad you and Morelli are okay. If I think of it, I'll pass the word along."

"Thanks. Later."

Once inside the building, I was surprised to see Mrs. Bestler manning the elevator. I hadn't seen her in quite awhile.

"Going up, dear?" she asked, holding the door for me.

"Yes, lingerie and handbags, please," I answered with a sentimental lump in my throat. This would probably be the last time I'd say that to her.

"Certainly. I hear there's a sale on brassiere's."

"Good to know," I nodded, smiling. When the door opened again on my floor, I put a hand on her arm as I prepared to pass. "You take care, Mrs. Bestler, okay?"

"Of course. Suits and luggage—going down."

The door closed, and I made my way down the hallway to my apartment. For the first time since having moved back in with Joe after the Kennard case, it hit me that an era was coming to an end in my life. Unlocking the front door, I stepped inside and allowed my eyes to sweep across what had once been my haven over the years. It had been my refuge after the divorce from Dickie and my palace in the good old days of E.E. Martin, when I'd made a legitimate salary and could actually afford decent furniture.

It also held some of my best memories with Joe. How many times had he walked across the threshold carrying a Pino's pizza? How many movies and sporting events had we watched together on the couch? How many times had he stood in the kitchen scarfing down whatever he could scrounge from my fridge—usually leftovers from my mother? And how many times had he come at any hour of the day or night to rescue me from the insanity of my job?

Entering the bedroom, I couldn't help but think of yesterday's horrific fight. That's not how I wanted to remember this room. Instead I thought of how many times Joe had snuck in during the middle of the night, suffering the affects of having worked a murder case, only to wrap his body around mine and bury himself deep inside me—somehow finding solace in the midst of madness. Of how many times we had lain awake, listening to the sound of rain on the roof—just like now—talking about nothing of consequence. Of how many times I'd listened to the sound of his breathing while he slept beside me—awed by the fact that _Joe Morelli_ was actually in my bed. Those were the memories I wanted to take with me.

Quickly shaking off the melancholy, I grabbed one of the boxes I'd snagged yesterday morning at the grocery store and started filling it with more of my memories and clothing and purses—and two hours later, I was still hard at work. I was busy cleaning out the bedroom closet when my cell phone rang.

Mary Lou.

"Hey, Mare," I greeted with a muffled voice. My head was buried amidst shoes—way too many shoes.

"Tell me it's not true."

I already knew to what she was referring, but played along. "What's not true?"

"That you found out Joe was working for the CIA and left him."

I burst out laughing. "Omigod! Seriously? What do you think?"

"I think it's a load of bull-pucky, but my motto is never say never wherever you and Morelli are concerned."

"It's not true."

"_Are _you living at your apartment?"

"No, I'm _packing _my apartment, so Tony can move in here."

"Oh. Well, okay then. I never doubted you for a minute."

"Right."

"So how was the honeymoon?" she sang.

My throat immediately tightened. "Amazing."

"I can only imagine," she sighed dramatically. "And you say Tony's moving into your place? What's happening with him, anyway?"

"We're still trying to get a handle on it all, but it's a goddamn mess, Mare."

"How's Joe taking it?"

At the mention of my husband, my heart sank again. "Holding his own, I guess." It was time to change the subject. "So did you and Lenny have fun in Barbados?" I asked teasingly.

"We did—thank you very much!" she responded tartly. "I got to ride his love stick and everything."

If I'd had something to drink in my mouth, it would have been coming out my nose at her reference to our conversation at the spa prior to the wedding. "You are _so _naughty, Stankovic!"

"Actually, something really good _did _come out of our time away from the kids," Mary Lou mentioned casually.

"What's that?" I continued packing while we talked, tossing the shoes I wanted to keep into a box.

"I've decided to go to college, and I have you and Morelli to thank for it."

"What!"

"I'm going to get a degree in counseling."

"Yeah—right," I snorted derisively. "Seriously, Mare."

"I _am _being serious," she responded defensively. "I realized helping people is something I'm really interested in, so I'm going to start out by taking a few classes at the community college starting in January. I've got the course catalogue right here."

_My whole world was turning upside down_! Lula was becoming one of the Merry Men, Mary Lou was going to college, and I was having a baby. Was the cosmic universe messed up or what?

"Wow," I offered in a stunned voice. "That's really something. I'm—I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. I have you to thank for it. Listen, I have to go. Mikey has a field trip this afternoon, so I need to grab some lunch before heading over to the school. Just wanted to make sure all was okay with you. It _is _okay, right?"

_Don't lie. Don't lie. Don't lie. _"It's been better," I admitted. "There's a lot of pressure right now—what with Tony and all." _Oh, and by the way—I'm pregnant._

"We'll have to catch up over lunch soon, okay? I want all the details."

"Sure. Later."

When I went to hit the disconnect button on my phone, I noticed it was almost eleven. There was still work to do, but my stomach was letting me know I needed to feed it soon or else I'd start feeling sick again. Suddenly I remembered I'd tucked a package of crackers into my bag, Heading into the living room to track them down, I was startled by a knock at the door. One quick peek through the peephole had me ready to vomit again.

None other than Ranger Manoso was standing there looking lean, dark and dangerous.

_SHIT! What the hell was he doing there!_

I opened the door to the possible father of my child with a question in my eyes. "Uh—hey. Wasn't expecting to see anyone here today—especially you. What's up?"

"You tell me," he responded evenly. "Your truck's been parked outside for over twenty-four hours now."

"How do you know that?" I demanded, my eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Tracking device, Babe. It's still on the bottom of your truck."

After the previous night's incident with Tony, I _really _didn't want to hear Ranger's nickname for me. "What? You're still tracking me?" The idea didn't make me very happy.

"You never took it off," Ranger shrugged dismissively. Looking past my shoulder into the apartment, he asked, "Mind if I come in?"

_Oh God. _There was no way in hell I could be alone with him in the apartment—not because I feared succumbing to past passion, but because it would totally destroy anything I was trying to prove to Joe.

"Actually, I do," I replied honestly. "It's not a good idea."

One side of his mouth curled imperceptibly. "So it _is_ true. You and Morelli are on the outs again. You sure didn't waste any time." He took a step closer. "What? You afraid to be alone with me?"

"No!" I defended hotly. "And what Joe and I are—or aren't—isn't anyone's business but ours. I can't believe you of all people would listen to anything fucking Joyce Barnhart says. Are you nuts?"

"Hard to deny your car's been sitting out there for a day and a night, Babe. _And _you'd only been home a day before it happened."

"Not that it should be your concern," I shot back, "but I've been packing the rest of my stuff."

"Sure," he responded in obvious disbelief.

I wanted to smack the arrogant look right off of his face, a feeling I'd never had before with Ranger. It made me sad, and once again I realized everything in my life seemed to be changing. It was downright terrifying.

"Okay—how about lunch then?" Ranger offered. "You said once you got back from Barbados we could have a long-overdue conversation."

_God, and what a conversation it would be! _He needed to be told about my pregnancy, but I knew I couldn't do it without Joe. No question my telling Ranger without him would be the end of our marriage.

"Actually, Joe and I both need to talk with you," I acknowledged with a dip of my head.

Ranger's face didn't move a muscle. "No thanks. I'm not into threesomes."

"I'm serious, Ranger. We really do need to talk."

"So talk."

"I can't—not without Joe."

He shook his head in disgust. "He finally succeeded in putting you into that cage, didn't he. Can't even have a conversation with me without checking with him first."

"It's _not_ like that." My heart started pounding. "Uh…let me just give him a quick call."

"Whatever. I'm out of here," Ranger moved to leave.

"Wait—please!" I held up one hand, as I stepped over into the kitchen and quickly pushed Joe's number on speed dial. _Pick up. Pick up!_

"Hey, Cupcake," Joe sighed into the phone. It wasn't even Noon, and the man already sounded exhausted.

"Hey," I responded nervously, trying to keep my voice low so Ranger wouldn't hear our conversation. "Listen, I'm at the apartment, and there's something I need to tell you. It's—um—well—

"Steph."

"Oh hell—Ranger's here."

A blast of ice-cold air burst through the phone.

"Manoso's there with you now. Alone in your apartment. Stephanie, I swear—"

"No! Stop. Just listen, okay? I'll explain everything later, but you have to trust me there was _nothing _going on. I haven't even let him physically into the apartment. He's standing in the hallway."

"Why is he there? How did he know you'd be there?"

"I guess the tracking device is still on the bottom of my truck from when it was put there last month."

"And he just _happened _to find this out from one of his thugs and—what—decided to stop by for tea? What the fuck, Stephanie."

"There's more to the story, and unless you've been privy to Burg gossip at the station, you may not know what's been running rampant through the neighborhood about us. I'll tell you later."

"I've been in a meeting with Chief Rogers all morning and just got out. What's the problem?"

"Can we please talk about it later?" I asked, tossing a jumpy look over my shoulder to make sure Ranger was still standing there.

"No. Tell me now. I don't trust you, remember?"

_Aargh! _The man was driving me crazy—even if it was my own damn fault he didn't trust me.

"Fine—but I'm going to make this fast," I lowered my voice even further. "Evidently Joyce stopped over here yesterday to pick up some of the crap she left behind when she was staying with me last month. She saw my truck, heard me crying and took off, telling anyone who would listen that you and I have issues."

"Now there's an understatement."

"Put a sock in it, Morelli. This is serious. The Burg is on fire with probably fifty different versions of what went wrong. Ranger saw on radar my truck's been here for more than 24-hours and decided to investigate."

"Poach would be a better word."

"Morelli—"

"Alright, I'll stop. I'm guessing you want to tell him about the baby."

"No. I want us to tell him about the baby. You said you'd be there when I did."

This seemed to take Joe by surprise. "You haven't told him already?"

"No! We said we'd do it together, didn't we? I just want to know if you could meet us for a quick lunch. It would make sense for him to go to the doctor with us, so he can hear what has to be done about the test."

"What doctor and what test?" I looked over my shoulder, and there stood Ranger right beside me.

_Double Aargh!_

"Stephanie, is that him?" Joe's voice snapped in my ear. "I thought you said—"

"Can you meet us for lunch or what?" I asked. Completely panicked, I tried to shoo Ranger away with my free hand.

Joe took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "Big Jim's in ten."

"How about Subway in five?"

"_Subway_," he repeated disdainfully.

I put my hand around my mouth close to the phone. "I can't look at ribs right now. I'll puke for sure. This way I can get a salad."

Another deep sigh.

"Fine. The one over here by the precinct."

"Thanks. See you." I paused, and then hastily added, "I love you."

Hanging up before he could respond one way or another, I turned back to find Ranger leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The muscles beneath his black t-shirt were bulging, and—while I hated to admit it—I had to swallow hard. Why didn't he have on a coat? It was October for Pete's sake!

"He'll meet us at Subway in five minutes."

"What doctor and what test?"

"Meet with us, and I'll tell you everything."

"Tell me now."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

Lifting my chin, I looked him in the eye. "I won't—not without Joe there."

Ranger pushed himself off from the wall and looked at me with a confused expression thinly masked by anger and resentment. "You've changed, Babe."

"You're right," I nodded miserably. "Everything's changed."


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own any of JE's characters.

I realize it's not as long as some of you may want, but this is what came out of my head, and I wanted it to be a stand-alone moment. Also, remember this is just the beginning. Certainly more will come out as we go along...hmmm...

I need to thank rangergirl1234 for her excellent insight into Ranger's character. She's the quintessential Cupcake/Babe

And my BIGGEST and SINCEREST thanks to Julie for really helping to mold this chapter. Your ideas rock!

* * *

Chapter Five

I was positively drenched by the time I found a parking spot on the street in front of the Subway Joe had indicated. The overwhelmingly noxious smell of cannabis in my truck had forced me to drive with my head practically hanging out the window in order to keep from getting sick. As a result, the seats were saturated, my clothes were doused and, after taking a quick assessment in the review mirror, I decided the wet dog look was going to have to suffice.

Joe was waiting inside the glass door to the restaurant when Ranger and I approached him from opposite directions. Seeing us, he immediately stepped out into the rain.

"There's a coffee shop next door," he said brusquely, jerking his head toward it. "It'll give us a little more privacy."

Not a word was spoken until the three of us had hustled into the Koffee Klutch. No sooner had we stepped inside the tiny hole in the wall than Joe put his hand on the back of my neck and leaned in for a brief, yet patently possessive kiss. Clearly he was staking his claim in front of Ranger. And while a very small part of me wanted to give him a kick for acting like a Neanderthal, the greater part understood his ego needed the boost—especially in light of what was to come.

"You're soaked," he noted, brushing the wet curls off of my forehead gently. "What happened?"

"I'm okay," I shrugged, saying no more. I wasn't quite ready to get into the whole explanation of why I looked like a drowned rat.

Thankfully the hostess, who also appeared to be the waitress and cook of this small dive and could easily have passed for 125 years old, walked out of the kitchen and shuffled us toward a booth in the back of the vacant restaurant. Noting all of the empty seats, I secretly hoped the reason there were no other customers was due to the fact it was only eleven fifteen in the morning and not an indication of the quality of her food. Ranger immediately took the side of the booth that allowed him to survey the room while Joe and I slid onto the bench across from him.

"Special of the day is chilidogs," she announced in a smoke-induced rasp that made me momentarily sentimental for our wedding coordinator Marina back in Barbados. It also made me nauseous, as she continued, "Three dogs loaded with chili, onions, cheese and mustard. Is that what ya'll want?"

Ranger quickly scanned the menu written on a chalkboard above the cash register. "I'll have the Caesar salad with a piece of grilled chicken on top. Lemon on the side and water."

The woman narrowed her eyes in irritation. That was _not _the special of the day, which meant more work for her, and clearly not what she had in mind.

"Uh, I'll have a salad too," I said and thought Ranger was going to fall out of the booth from shock. "Tossed—with cheese, carrots, croutons and French dressing. Water for me too. Thanks. Oh—and some crackers. And maybe some rolls too. Do you have any cinnamon buns?" Joe gave me a look out of the corner of his eye, and I quickly amended, "But plain white would be fine too."

Sourpuss Sally's face looked like she was sucking on a lemon by the time she turned to poor Joe. I knew _he _wasn't about to let her down by not ordering the special. The man loved chilidogs—almost as much as meatball subs.

He cleared his throat and said, "I guess make it three salads. I'll do tossed too with everything but onion."

Sally sighed. "You want chicken?"

"No thanks, but I'll have coffee when you have time." He smiled up at her, and immediately the infamous Morelli charm turned the lemon into lemonade.

"Comin' right up, sugar," she smiled, revealing a lovely gold front tooth.

I had to close my eyes for a moment against the tears that suddenly sprang to my eyes. _God, I loved this man. _Despite his conflicted feelings toward me, he was _still _providing support, including not contributing to my current bizarre aversion to meat. I hastily offered up yet another silent prayer the baby would be his, and that we could somehow find a way to work through this nightmare still intact.

Ranger was looking at both of us as if we'd just flown in from another planet.

"Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?" he asked in confused irritation. "Since when do either of you eat anything not filled with nitrates?"

Obviously we weren't going to make any attempt at small talk. No: "how was the wedding" or "good to have you back"—not even a "let's talk about that crazy rumor flying around Trenton you two are headed for a divorce." Ranger wanted answers—now.

I looked at Joe, who looked back at me with his head already shaking. "No way. This one's on you, Cupcake."

He was right. It was on me—or more precisely _in me_ thanks to my own lustfulness.

Taking a deep breath, I dove in. "Ranger, do you remember Vordo week?"

"Oh, Jesus—not again with the Vordo," Joe immediately groaned and laid his head back against the top of the booth.

I glared at him. "You _said _it was on me. I can do this any damn way I please."

Rolling his eyes, he motioned for me to continue. Ranger, on the other hand, looked even more pissed.

"I don't know what kind of game you two are playing here, but I don't have time—"

"Just answer the question," I quickly interrupted. "Do you remember Vordo week?"

"You mean that crazy week last month when—"

"_Yes_!" I interjected again, noticing Joe's fist beginning to curl tightly by his side. Before Ranger could go into any details, I added quietly, "Yes, that's the one."

Ranger gave me his patented half-smile, but his voice remained even, "Yeah, I remember. It was quite a week."

Joe sat up straighter, looking like a panther ready to pounce.

"Okay. Good. We've established that we all remember Vordo week." I fumbled nervously, my fingers busy shredding a napkin into tiny fragments on the table. Despite my gratitude toward Joe for his support, this had to be the single most humiliating moment of my life. Acknowledging to him I'd had sex with Ranger was one thing, but having to actually talk about it in front of him was quite another.

Silence.

"Babe—"

"Don't call her Babe," Joe interjected in a low, warning tone. His eyes were nearly black as they met Ranger's in challenge.

"Joe—"

"I don't care, Stephanie," he bit off, not even glancing in my direction. "You two both owe me that much respect. It was one thing when there was no commitment between the two of us, but I won't stand by and allow another man to call you _"_Babe_" _in front of my face now that we're married."

"I don't _owe_ you anything, Morelli." Ranger ignored the command and met the challenge by leaning his body closer toward the table. "In fact, I seem to recall it being the other way around."

Joe's jaw was grinding so hard; it'd be a wonder if he had any molars left after lunch. "You don't need to remind me of what I owe. Believe me, the fact I do owe you is the only reason why we're here."

Ranger looked even more confused—a feeling I'm sure a man who prided himself on perfect self-control didn't relish. As a result, his patience finally snapped. "Well_somebody_ better tell me what the fuck is going on—now—or I'm out of here."

"I'm pregnant," someone blurted.

_Oh shit, I think that someone was me!_

"Well congratulations, honey," Sally enthused, as she approached carrying three bowls of salad on a tray, along with a basket of rolls and our drinks. "Here are your—" She plunked the bowls onto the table_. _"Salads. You need anything else?"

Silence met her question, until Joe finally said, "We're fine."

_We were hardly fine._

"You're pregnant," Ranger repeated in a stunned, matter-of-fact manner, stalling for time while he took a moment to process my words.

"Yes."

More silence.

I'll give Ranger credit—he didn't run out the door at the news. Oddly enough, he seemed almost intrigued by the idea.

"Seeing as you two aren't giddy with excitement, I take it the reason why we're here is because it's mine." Nerves were dancing on the fringe of his statement, but the look in his eyes seemed almost hopeful.

"No," Joe's denial came fast and furious. I couldn't even imagine what hearing Ranger say those words had cost him.

My whole body was shaking and my face flushed with embarrassment. "I don't know. I was intimate with both of you that week, and—"

"Poor choice of words, Steph," Joe said bitingly. He was barely containing his jealousy and rage. "Intimacy didn't play a single part in any of it."

"Fine. I _slept _with both of you that week," I shot back in frustration.

Ranger was trying his best to hide his emotions. "How far along are you then?"

I responded in a choked voice. "I don't know. I think it happened during Vordo week, but it might have been during Hawaii too. I'm guessing 7 or 8 weeks, but I need a doctor to confirm it."

"You haven't been to see a doctor yet?"

"I just confirmed the pregnancy yesterday afternoon," I explained embarrassedly.

Letting out a deep breath, he leaned back cautiously. All three of us had yet to touch our food. "So there's a chance it might not be mine, right?"

"Right. It all depends on the week. If it was Vordo week, it could be either of yours. If it was during Hawaii, well then—"

"I used condoms in Hawaii," he quickly noted. Despite his physical control, his voice was beginning to reflect his internal struggle. He seemed simultaneously both edgy and expectant.

"But not at first."

I stole a glance at Joe and wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole at the look of betrayal on his face as he sat there listening to us. It seemed downright cruel he was being forced to relive my infidelity again so soon after yesterday's confession, and having to hear it about it directly from Ranger's lips was certainly an additional torture.

"So I'm assuming the test you were referring to on the phone earlier is some sort of paternity test?" Ranger surmised. Little beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead.

"It's the only way any of us will be able to get through the next seven months," I reasoned.

"Do you know anything about them?"

"No, do you?"

He shook his head. "I can start doing some research though, I guess."

"I'm sure the doctor will explain the various options." I responded dully. It was like we were all strangers reading lines in a play.

Ranger shifted in his seat uncomfortably and turned his attention to Joe with barely restrained animosity. "I can't believe you agreed to telling me any of this."

I interrupted softly, "Actually _I _was the one who didn't want to tell you. Joe insisted."

"I told you I hadn't forgotten I owed you," Morelli observed with his eyebrow cocked. He purposefully picked up his fork and stabbed several leaves of lettuce. "If the situation were reversed, I would hope you'd have the decency to offer me the same courtesy."

"You weren't going to tell me?" Ranger stared at me, and although he tried to hide it, I could see the hurt in his eyes.

"No, I didn't want to," I confirmed, leaving it at that.

Joe pointed at my salad with his fork. "You need to eat, Steph."

"I'm not very hungry right now."

To my surprise Joe put his hand over mine resting on the table and gave it a squeeze. "I know you're not, Cupcake, and I know you hate salad, but will you at least try to eat—for me," he encouraged in a low voice. "You'll feel better if you do."

"Morelli's right," Ranger offered, choosing to ignore the glower Joe gave him for interfering. "I'm glad to see you're at least taking care of yourself."

"It's not by choice," I grumbled. "I would have been all over those chilidogs if the look, smell and idea of meat didn't make my stomach revolt."

"Are you feeling okay overall?" he asked with obvious concern.

"No, I feel lousy—and not just from the morning sickness, which seems to be turning into all-day sickness."

Ranger didn't seem to have a response to that, and, for a few moments, we all bent our heads and concentrated on our food.

Joe eventually pushed his empty bowl aside and asked, "How much do you want to be a part of what happens from here on out?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ranger glared at him suspiciously.

"It's not that difficult of a question to understand," Joe returned evenly. "Do you want to go to see the doctor with us; do you want us to just tell you what he says or do you simply want us to let you know the results of the test after it comes back?" His tone turned sarcastic. "Or maybe you just want to just disappear into the wind. You're real good at that, aren't you?"

"What do _you_ want me to do?" Ranger addressed me, ignoring Joe completely.

"Listen, Manoso, I'm about done trying to be fair here," Joe leaned further across the table, his demeanor all cop. "Do not think that by somehow bypassing me you're going to use this as an opportunity to poach your way back into Stephanie's life—or bed. I'm telling you—"

"_You're _telling me?" Ranger's eyebrows shot up.

"No, _I'm _telling you—both of you," I said forcefully, not quite certain where this sudden assertiveness had come from. "_This_ is how it's going to be."

Turning to Joe, I looked at him pleadingly. "You have no reason to trust me; I know that, but I'm telling you there's no need for you to lay down warnings and ultimatums with anyone. My heart is completely yours, Joe. Underneath all this pain and anger, you must sense that. Think of last week. That was the most vulnerable and real I've ever been with anyone in my life. I will _never_ sacrifice what I have with you again_._"

I could see the battle being waged once more between Joe's head and heart. Not even waiting to see which would be the victor, I turned toward Ranger.

"And I'm telling _you_ that how much you want to be a part of this process is up to you, so don't go trying to put the decision onto me. We'll include you in every step if you want, but you need to be doing it for the right reason."

"Which would be?" Ranger eyed me closely.

I sighed and lowered my voice. "Listen, if you think you're going to want to have some sort of relationship with this child should it indeed be yours I can understand that, and Joe and I will make every effort to include you in anything that pertains to the baby."

"You and Joe," he repeated, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes," I repeated firmly. "But if you think the possibility of my being pregnant with your child is somehow going to lead me back to you—you're wrong. It's not going to happen."

Ranger opened his mouth to speak, and I cut him off. "I love Joe more than anything else in the world, Ranger. You have to understand I'm _never_ leaving him again. I'm_never_ cheating on him again."

I hated sounding so harsh, but I didn't know how else to say what needed to be said—not only for my sake but for Joe's as well. "So if you have it in your head you can use sexual innuendo or flirtation—or this baby—to somehow remain connected to me, you can forget it. It's not happening."

Joe joined our hands together beneath the table, and I felt a surge of hope that perhaps he believed what I was saying.

Ranger's eyes glittered dangerously. "Well, _I _never said I still want you, Ba—Stephanie." he noted coolly. I wasn't sure if he meant it or was merely trying to save face. Truthfully, I was beyond caring. I was so weary of this entire predicament, and it had only been 24 hours.

My phone chose that moment to ring.

Checking the caller ID, I announced, "It's my doctor's office." Awkwardly I turned my back to both of them and put the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hi Stephanie, it's Trudy from Partner's in Women's Health. I know it's last minute notice, but Dr. Hamilton's had a cancellation this afternoon at five o'clock. Is there any way you can make it then?"

"Hold on," I said. Putting my hand over the phone, I turned to Joe. "Can you go at five today?"

I knew this was putting additional stress on him at work, considering it was his first day back in two weeks, but he never hesitated. "I'll be there."

My eyes sought Ranger's stormy gaze across the table. I didn't even want to begin to analyze all that had to be running through his head about now. Lifting my hand in a questioning gesture, I waited impatiently for his response. Finally, he gave me one of his barely imperceptible head nods.

Uncovering my hand from the phone, I said, "We'll be there."

I told Ranger where to meet us, and he immediately stood and tossed some bills down onto the table. Nailing Joe with an enigmatic look, he offered his begrudging thanks. "I appreciate not being kept in the dark."

Joe gave him one short nod in response and turned his head away, as if he couldn't even stand to look at his long-time rival any longer.

Ranger's voice softened as he addressed me. "Let me know if I can do anything for you—Stephanie." And he was gone before I could even formulate a response. Once again I felt sick inside. Despite my absolute devotion to Joe, I did care about Ranger, and hated having to put him through this ordeal as well.

No sooner had the tinkle of the bell above the front door signaled his exit than I closed my eyes, trying to stop the moisture already welling behind the lids. I didn't want Joe to think I was using tears as some sort of manipulative tool with him, knowing full well how much he hated to see me cry.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered miserably for what seemed like the thousandth time since yesterday. "I've screwed up everything for both of us—all of us really."

He exhaled a slow and even breath. "I don't trust him," he stated, ignoring my apology completely.

Opening my eyes, I watched his profile as he continued to stare at the wall. "What do you mean?"

Joe shook his head. "I know you think Manoso's not going to be happy if this baby is his, but you're wrong. I guarantee you he's looking at this as a way to stay connected with you—a way to force you to keep a piece of him with you always."

I didn't want to believe it despite having just warned Ranger of that very possibility myself. "He's in shock—like we were yesterday," I brushed off his concern. "Once he's had a chance to think about this he'll—"

"_Nothing_ is going to change, Stephanie," Joe argued almost dejectedly. "I'm not trying to fight with you here. I'm simply pointing out if this _is_ Ranger's child—which I refuse to believe—he's not going to just disappear into the woodwork. He's going to want to be a part of this child's life, which consequently means our lives, for the next eighteen years. Shit, more like the rest of our lives."

He finally shifted in the booth and pierced my soul with those depthless chocolate eyes of his. "I'm not so sure I can handle that."

My heart literally stopped beating for a moment. "What are you saying?"

Reaching out, he played with a springy curl that was just beginning to dry next to my cheek. "Nothing really, except there's a lot at stake here. More than I think either of us has realized yet."

"Please don't leave me," I found myself begging yet again.

"I already told you. I'm not going to leave you, Cupcake. We just have a lot to think about—that's all." He dropped his hand and moved to slide out of the booth. "Let's wait until we talk with the doctor before we start worrying about things we have no knowledge of, okay? Right now I have to get back to work before my continual absences become something to worry about." He put some money on the table to cover our meals.

"I'm sorry," I repeated on a sigh, feeling guilty all over again.

Taking my hand, Joe helped me out of the booth and pulled me into his arms. His voice was rough and insistent as he spoke against my ear, "I appreciated your attempt at setting some boundaries with him." His grip grew tighter. "Ranger isn't taking you from me again, Stephanie. Do you understand? No matter how angry or upset I am, I can't live without you."

Now the tears did come, and I didn't even try to stop them. "I can't live without you either. I'm not going to take you for granted ever again, Joe. I swear on my own life. God, if only you could trust me!"

He kissed my temple and pulled back to look at me, a sexy smile hovering about his lips. "One day soon, when I'm still not wanting to wring your neck, you'll have to show me how much you love me, Mrs. Morelli."

"One day soon?" I repeated hopefully.

"Getting sooner," he amended and bent his head to capture my mouth with his own.

Not wanting him to think I was pushing him, I let Joe control the kiss. A thrill of hope surged through me when his tongue slipped through my lips to meet mine in the first truly sensual contact we'd experienced since the previous morning. My arms moved of their own accord, sliding up his chest and around his neck and sinking into the curls over the edge of his collar.

I have no idea how long we were standing there completely lost in one other when the waitress shouted through her hoarse throat, "Good Governor! I hope like hell you're the father of that baby, handsome, the way you two are going at it!" She cackled merrily at what she thought of as a joke. She had no idea how deadly accurate her light-hearted quip had been.

Immediately Joe pulled back and the mood was broken.

"Yeah, me too," he responded back to her with a short, self-condemning laugh. The pain was back in his eyes. He added in a flat voice to me, "I may end up having to work later tonight to play catch-up, so I'll meet you at the doctor's office at five. That way you can head home afterward."

"Sure." I nodded, wanting to hurt Sourpuss Sally for having ruined the progress I'd been making with my husband. "I'll see you later then. Love you."

Joe gave me the same brief, detached nod he'd given Ranger. "You too. See you later."


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Thanks, Julie, for your continued second set of eyes, helpful suggestions and amazing encouragement.

* * *

Chapter Six

The rain had been reduced to a steady drizzle by the time I climbed back into my truck after lunch. Immediately cranking the heater to high, I knew there was zero hope of drying out the interior after the soaking it had taken earlier, but at least the heat would feel good, particularly with the windows opened to allow in as much fresh air as possible. While my stomach was feeling a little more stable after eating, I wasn't leaving anything to chance. A glance at the dashboard clock showed I had nearly five hours to kill before I had to meet Joe and Ranger at the doctor's office.

Five. L-o-n-g. Hours.

My plan was to head back to the apartment to finish packing. Evidently, my subconscious had its own plan, however, because less than five minutes later I found myself in the drive-thru at the Donut Hole. I'd been craving donuts since Lula's mention of it earlier that morning, and seeing as I'd been very good about eating nothing but healthy crap since the previous afternoon—Chubby Hubby notwithstanding—it was time to introduce this baby to some _real_ food.

"I'll take a dozen assorted, please."

"Thatwllbesixfifty. Pulheadnexwind," came the tinny, garbled response from the ancient speaker before I pulled ahead.

Probably it was a good thing I couldn't understand the person, because as my lousy luck would have it, Chickie Manack was still on duty at the window. No doubt I would've been out of there in a heartbeat had I recognized her voice over the speaker. According to Lula, she'd been hard at work that morning helping to spread the rumors about Joe and me, and I _really_ didn't want to have to deal with the Burg gossip mill right then.

"Stephanie Plum, is that you?" Chickie practically had her whole body pushed through the window, which couldn't have been easy considering she weighed almost as much as Lula.

I gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yeah, it's me, Chickie—only it's Morelli now."

"Hunh! So I heard. But which one—Tony or Joe?"

I gave her a dirty look and held out my hand with the money. "You're a smart girl. I'm sure you and the rest of the Burg will figure it out. Can I please have my donuts?"

"Jeez, aren't you the cranky one," Chickie frowned. "I guess doing all them drugs with Tony over at that Meth House must have given you the munchies. Here's your change."

"You're the one who must be on drugs or else you've been inhaling too much gas from the donut oven again," I said, trying hard to remain calm. "I don't do drugs, and I don't "do" Tony Morelli. For Christ's sake, I'm married to a cop!"

"Mmmmm...hmmmm." She didn't sound too convinced.

"Can I _please _just have the goddamned donuts?"

"_Fine!_" She shoved them through the window at me. "But don't blame me when your heart gets broken over Tony's new girl."

"You mean Myrna Flowers?" I scoffed, releasing my foot from the brake to take off. "You need new gossip, Chickie. That's old news."

"Myrna Flowers!" she cried with enough scorn to have me putting the brake back on. "Tony ain't been seeing Myrna Flowers. He's been hooked up with Lil Conroy. They were just at The Pokey last Thursday night."

The Pokey was an odious dive near Stark Street. "Where'd you hear that?" I asked suspiciously.

By now there were three cars behind me honking their horns. Evidently other people in Trenton were in need of a donut fix on a miserable Monday afternoon.

"I didn't have to hear it," Chickie smirked. "I _saw _it with my own eyes, being I was right there playing pool with my friends. Tony and Lil had their hands all over each other." She shook her head sadly and her tone softened. "I feel damn sorry for Angie and the kids, especially with his arrest and all. 'Course it don't help matters any now that you're screwing him too."

More horns were blaring, so I took just enough time to give her the evil eye and drove off. Reaching into the bag beside me, I pulled out a cinnamon glazed twist and shoved about half of it into my mouth. _Omigod, I needed that sugar rush more than my next breath._

If Chickie was telling the truth for once, what the heck had Tony been doing Thursday night with this Lil Conroy person? What about his six-week affair with Myrna Flowers? Wasn't she the link to why he was at that Meth house Friday night? Just how many women did he have on the line anyway?

I really needed to get back to packing, but once again the truck had a mind of its own. Defying any sense of intelligence on my part, I was soon parked in the driveway of Tony and Angelina's house wondering what the heck I hoped to accomplish there. Furthermore, a bizarre sense of déjà vu overtook me when she opened the door as soon as I rang the bell.

She must have felt the same way, because the first words out of her mouth were the same as they'd been when I'd last visited over a year ago—back when Tony had been staying with his brother, and Joe had begged me to try and convince Angelina to take her husband back.

"Omigod, let me guess. They sent you over to talk me into taking him back."

My response then had been "yep", so it felt good to be able to say in all honesty, "No, that's not why I'm here—I promise. I just want to make sure you're okay."

She stood back to let me in, and I was surprised to find the house almost eerily quiet. Last time the place had been crawling with kids. Angelina evidently read my mind. "The big kids are at school. Maria and Little Anthony are upstairs napping."

"Oh," I nodded my head, already feeling guilty. I barely remembered Little Anthony from my last visit, and I had no idea who the hell Maria was—let alone "the big kids." Vaguely, I wondered if Joe even knew who all his nieces and nephews were.

Angelina led me into the kitchen where she'd been cleaning up lunch dishes. "You want coffee?" she asked politely.

I wanted coffee like I wanted sex with my husband, but neither seemed to be in my best interest at the moment.

"Water's fine," I indicated politely and set the bag of donuts I'd brought in with me onto the tabletop.

It never ceased to amaze me just how gorgeous Angelina—or Angie—Morelli was. I mean she was serious _Top Model_ material with classic Italian good looks and long, lustrous black hair. She was two years younger than me, and I'd always been stymied as to why she'd married Tony in the first place, seeing as he was at least fourteen years her senior. They'd been married right after her graduation from high school, and she'd certainly been a good Catholic wife to him. They'd had something like five or six kids over the past fourteen years—maybe more for all I knew. And yet, she was still stick thin with perfect skin and that doggone gorgeous hair. With my rotten luck, I'd probably have this one child and end up looking like a regular hippo for the rest of my life.

She brought over the drinks and two plates, and we each selected a donut. The silence stretched between us awkwardly while she stared at her pastry, and I steadily chewed through mine. After several long minutes, she finally broke the ice.

"Your wedding was beautiful, Stephanie. I'm glad I got to see you and Joe finally tie the knot." She added wistfully, "No one would ever be able to deny how in love the two of you looked that day."

My stomach churned at my own memories of how happy Joe and I had been only a few _days_ ago. "Thanks." I tried to smile. "I'm glad you were able to be there."

"I'm sorry Tony and Paul disrupted everything," she apologized embarrassedly, ducking her head and staring at the uneaten pastry on her plate. "Adrienne and I felt terrible."

Last time I'd been in that house, our repartee had been short and filled with sarcasm. I knew immediately this would be a different kind of conversation, and for once I had no desire to try and give some sort of smartass comment. Instead, I said seriously, "I could care less what they did to me, but I got to tell you—I was livid over how they tried to ruin things for their own brother. Why'd they do that?"

Angelina shook her head. "There's a lot you don't know about the Morelli's yet—"

"Well, I wish somebody would take the time to clue me in, because I don't like wandering around in the dark all by myself here. I'm a bounty hunter—not a detective. That's Joe's gig, remember?"

She stared intently at me out of those dark eyes of hers. "I'll tell you some things," she offered reluctantly, "because I don't want you to have to endure what I did in the beginning. I'm giving you fair warning though—not even a frickin' roadmap will help you figure out how the Morelli family ticks."

"Yeah? Well, I'll take whatever help I can get."

She finally took a small bite of her donut and set it back daintily onto her plate.

"Have you ever heard about how Tony and I got together?" Seeing the shake of my head, she went on, "We met when I was seventeen years old. I was working in my dad's auto repair shop for the summer as a receptionist, and he came in to have his car serviced—a 1977 Chevy Trans Am, T-top with pin stripes." She smiled at the memory. "Pure muscle car. Anyway, he was thirty-one years old, and when he walked through the door of that shop, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven."

I couldn't help but smile. _All _the Morelli brothers had the same kind of affect on women.

She let out a sigh. "Of course, I'd heard all about the Morelli boys and their reputation, and I knew who Joe was despite him being four years ahead of me in school. But I'd never seen Tony until that day."

The way she said that last statement left no doubt in my mind Angelina was still in love with her husband, regardless of how badly he'd mistreated her and their children.

"Tony must have seen something he liked, because he asked me out. Of course my father would _never _have said yes if he'd known about it, so we dated secretly throughout most of my senior year. He was the sweetest guy I'd ever met—not much on brains, but such a heart. I got pregnant with Giovanni two months before graduation. My parents and Mrs. Morelli were furious. We had a typical Burg shotgun wedding as soon as possible, and then I just started popping out babies left and right."

I wasn't about to embarrass myself by asking how many children she actually did have, so I simply nodded and waited for her to continue.

"I was the first of the in-laws to join the family." She gave a short laugh. "God, I was so lost during those early years—incredibly shy and desperate to be included in Tony's family. Mrs. Morelli didn't approve of my marriage to her son or me. Cathy and Mary had their own lives and their own issues—thanks to their father—and neither was too interested in including me in girl talk. Joe was obsessed with working his way up from rookie to detective and seemed to be purposefully distancing himself from his brothers. And Grandma Bella? Don't even get me started on her!"

"What about Paul?"

"Paulie has _always_ idolized Tony. They're only eighteen months a part, you know. Because of that bond, he's been a real brother to me too." She paused and gritted her teeth. "He's also been a real pain in the ass lately by choosing to follow Tony's lead rather than stand up to him."

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. "Was Tony faithful to you in the beginning?"

"God no! I don't even think he was faithful to me while we were dating. I told you the last time you came to see me he can't help it—it's all the machismo in him."

I couldn't allow her to make excuses for the idiot any longer. "That's bullshit, Angie, and you know it." _Jesus, when would I learn to keep my mouth shut!_

She started to bristle, but then her shoulder slumped. "You're right—it is. I really don't know why he cheats. He's always been great with the kids. He's always said he loves me. Maybe he cheats because I'm not good enough—"

"Don't go there," I warned, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. This subject was beginning to hit a little too closely to home, only the shoe was on the other foot. Although I hadn't had the binding commitment of marriage to consider, I'd still been the one to willingly explore other options while in a long-term relationship.

"His choices have nothing to do with you," I insisted. "They're his and his alone." _And so were yours, Stephanie._

I could tell she didn't believe me. Shifting in my seat, I reached for another donut. "Listen, Joe's shared a little bit with me about his childhood. He said Tony took an awful lot of beatings on behalf of his brothers and sisters. Isn't it possible all that suffering might have made him feel entitled to do whatever he wants without considering the consequences?"

Angelina looked momentarily stunned. "You _know _about the beatings?"

"Yeah. Hard to imagine any kid being willing to take that much abuse."

She continued to stare blankly into space. "I was married to Tony for five _years_ before he even mentioned his father's _name_ to me."

I was stunned by her confession. She must have sensed my confusion, because she hastily added, "Oh, I'd seen his scars of course, and I knew he had to have been beaten, but he refused to talk about it—until one day when Giovanni was five."

"What happened?"

"Gio was being a little shit one day—sassing me and giving me a hard time about something. I don't even remember what it was now. I lost my temper and got out a wooden spoon to give him a spanking, and Tony went crazy on me. He took the spoon, ground it down the garbage disposal and threatened to take the kids if I ever so much as lifted a finger toward one of them again. Later that night, he broke down and told me about the years of torture he'd experienced at the hands of his father. It was ugly, Stephanie. I can't even begin to tell you how heinous some of it was—and not just for Tony."

"Paulie?"

She inclined her head. "Yes, although perhaps not as much. The girls suffered their own hell. Neither of them has ever said a word to me personally about it in the past fourteen years, but Tony's told me Rocco sexually abused both Cathy and Mary.

I swallowed over the lump in my throat. Joe had wondered the same thing but had never had his suspicions confirmed. This was getting harder to listen to. "And Joe?"

"As far as I know, he was left pretty much unscathed. He was so much younger than the rest of them, and by the time he would've been old enough to really suffer, Rocco was dead."

Thinking back to the conversation Joe and I had shared during our honeymoon, I remembered his vague memories of his father and his childhood. "Joe said Tony changed after the last time you two were separated."

Angelina nodded. "It's the alcohol. Tony's always been a drinker, but it became a lot worse about a year or so ago. He started drinking every day—here at home or out with his cronies and his skanks. It got to where I'd have to take the kids and go stay with my parents at times. I didn't want them to see what _their_ father was becoming."

Thinking of his arrest, I asked quietly, "Drugs too?"

"No!" She shook her head with conviction. "I may be pissed as hell at him, but I _know _Tony isn't into drugs—making _or_ using them. That arrest was bogus."

I decided to leave the drug charge alone for a moment and went back to the drinking.

"Any idea what triggered the change in him?"

She looked me in the eye. "This is only _my _supposition, okay? But I think it started getting really bad when Tony turned forty-five—about the same time we had that last split. That was close to the same age Rocco was when he died."

I sat there trying to absorb her observation. "I'm not sure I understand the connection."

"For whatever reason, it caused Tony to either remember past horrors or to start examining his own life. Steph, he's never talked with anyone about the abuse—a professional, I mean, and I'm sure he hasn't even told me half of what he had to endure in his parent's garage. To my knowledge, Paulie and the girls haven't talked with anyone either. They're all walking around like ticking time bombs waiting to detonate—Mom Morelli too, for that matter."

"Really?" I asked doubtfully. "She's always seemed so in control whenever I've been around her."

Angelina disagreed. "At first I wanted to blame her for not getting her children help when they so desperately needed it, but now I understand she had all she could do to endure the nightmare herself. And after Rocco died, the whole family did whatever it could to bury the past. For Mrs. Morelli, it was maintaining perfect control of her surroundings. For the girls it was getting married and focusing on their own families. Tony and Paulie took to following in the old man's footsteps. The point is _none_ of them have ever dealt with their grief and anger. They carry around all these secrets and scars and now the effects of them are starting to come back out in unhealthy ways—at least for Tony."

Suddenly a realization hit me like a brick to the head. Joe had his own issues from childhood. For one, he carried a huge burden of guilt regarding the fact he _hadn't _had to suffer like his siblings. Perhaps more importantly, he was scarred from having been left in the dark all those years regarding the depths of their suffering. No wonder he'd said yesterday he was more upset about my not telling him the truth about my relationship with Ranger rather than the relationship itself.

My husband had been starving for truth all his life.

It was difficult, but I tried to shift my thoughts back to Angelina and her situation by asking, "Joe told me Tony lost his job last month. What are you doing for money?"

She shrugged. "Up until I kicked him out Thursday night, we were using money we had in reserve. Tony kept promising to get another job. He was gone all the time, but I don't think he was job-hunting. More like drinking and fooling around." She shoved her barely touched plate aside. "Now that I'm on my own, my parents are helping me until I figure out what I want to do."

I wanted to show concern for how difficult her situation must be, but I could tell her pride didn't want the sympathy. For once I kept my mouth shut. Instead I decided to tread lightly onto another topic.

"Speaking of Thursday night, I heard Tony was down at The Pokey with some gal named Lil Conroy."

Angelina raised one of her beautifully shaped eyebrows. "Yeah? Well, I heard _you_ and Tony have been screwing around as well. You believe that too, Steph?"

My face got warm. "Actually I have an eyewitness that says she saw him there with this Lil chick."

"And this would be my concern, because?"

Ignoring her sarcasm, I continued, "According to his arrest warrant, he's been having a six-week affair with Myrna Flowers. You know her?"

Angelina's lips pressed into a tight line, and she shut down completely on me.

"Come on, Angie. Joe and I want to help you and Tony, but we can't if we don't know what's going on."

"I already told you the arrest was bogus. Tony was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"The way you're defending him makes it sound like you're planning to take him back." The thought made me sick to my stomach, especially after the way he'd come on to _me_ only the night before. "Are you?"

Her weary, yet beautiful, eyes met mine. "I don't expect you to understand, Stephanie. You're not like me. You're bold and brave and independent—and I'm none of those things. You wouldn't take this kind of shit from Joe. Jesus, look at what you did after you found Dickie Orr with Joyce Barnhardt."

_Hunh? _I didn't feel as though I was any of the words she'd used to describe me. And I'd left Dickie because he was a horse's ass.

Angelina was still talking. "I barely have a high school diploma, and I've done nothing but manufacture babies for the past umpteen years. I have no job skills and all these children to take care of. I _need_ Tony here to help. But—" She raised her finger when she noticed I was about to protest. "I also know he's incapable of helping anyone—including himself—right now. _He_ needs help. And until he gets it, I can't have him here, especially around the kids."

"Despite all he's done to disgrace you and your children, you still love him, don't you," I remarked, almost in disbelief.

Angie squared her shoulders and mustered as much dignity as she could. "My husband may not be perfect, but underneath it all, I know he loves me. When I look at him, I still see the man I saw walk through the door of my father's store all those years ago—a man who would sacrifice his own health and happiness for that of his family. Yes, I still love him."

I honestly didn't know how to respond. If I were in her shoes and had been that humiliated, which I _had_ been with Dickie, I wouldn't give Tony another chance. I couldn't even imagine wanting to give Joe another chance if we were in their shoes. Oh, but God, wasn't that what he was offering me—another chance? Joe wanted truth and change—just like Angelina—and both were still willing to work toward forgiveness and healing in their marriages.

They were both living their vows.

Talk about a humbling epiphany—I could barely keep control of my emotions, as I stood and carried my dishes to the counter, looking frantically for a way to compose myself.

"Is Tony okay?" Angie asked from behind me. She was still seated at the table.

Turning around, I shook my head. "Not really. He's still drinking, and he's not cooperating with the police about the investigation." Seeing Angelina begin to close up again, I decided to push harder. "Are you sure you can't give me any more details about Lil Conroy or Myrna Flowers? If you want Tony healed and home, anything you tell me could help."

She looked torn, which told me she definitely knew more than she was saying. "I'll say this much. Things aren't always as they appear, and I know for a fact Tony wasn't having an affair with Myrna Flowers."

"Then what was he doing at that Meth House?" I pressed.

"I've made promises—"

"To whom? What kind of promises? Angie, you obviously don't know how serious this is—"

"I hate to move you along, Steph, but I'm going to have to get over to the school soon to get the big kids." She stood and looked pointedly at me. _She was done talking._

Reluctantly, I nodded. "Joe and I really do want to help—"

"From what I've heard, you already are. Tony _is_ staying with you, right?"

"He did the past two nights, but he's moving into my old apartment starting tonight."

"His snoring is horrific." She gave a small, knowing smile.

"Enough to wake the dead," I agreed, rolling my eyes. "It's going to be a challenge having him stay at the apartment though, seeing as he can't drive. I guess others in the Morelli family are going to have to step up and help, because Joe and I have a lot going on right now as well."

"Well for obvious reasons, I'm not able to help, but I'm grateful you're looking out for him. Just be careful. I'd hate to see your apartment get destroyed. I know from personal experience what a pig he can be."

We walked to the front door. There was a suitcase sitting there that I hadn't noticed upon my arrival.

"Here are a few of Tony's things—mostly clothes and stuff. Will you see that he gets them?"

"Sure."

I gave her a hug and was halfway across the threshold, when a sudden thought hit me. "Hey, have you seen Paulie around lately? Joe's been trying to get a hold of him, and Adrienne hasn't been offering too much information when Joe's talked to her."

Angelina immediately shut down again.

_Bingo._

"Sorry, I can't help you," she said, avoiding my eyes. "See you around, Steph."

"Sure."

Back in my truck, I had my finger on Joe's speed dial, prepared to give him an update when I thought the better of it. He had enough to contend with and didn't need any more interruptions from me that afternoon. We could talk later about what had transpired with Angelina. Looking at my phone's incoming call log, I noticed three messages from my mother and two from Mrs. Morelli. Evidently, the rumor mill had finally reached those two as well. I certainly wasn't up for conversations with either of them, so I simply tossed the phone back into my bag and pulled out of Angelina's driveway.

Midway across town, I also tossed up the three donuts plus the salad I'd eaten into a side street gutter. This morning sickness crap was kicking my butt. Did everyone have the all-the-time kind of nausea, or was I the only lucky one?

Before losing my lunch, the thought had crossed my mind of swinging by Paul and Adrienne's place, but now I was completely whipped and knew I couldn't put off packing any longer. No sooner had I entered my old apartment fifteen minutes later than there was another knock on the door. This time it was Dillon, the landlord.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, motioning him inside.

"I see you're finally getting the place packed up," he remarked, looking around the living area. "Congrats on the wedding, by the way. Everything going okay?"

He'd obviously heard the rumors as well.

"No complaints," I responded without hesitation. Despite my current situation, I wasn't about to start complaining.

"Need any help?" Dillon offered a tad too eagerly.

My eyes widened. "Is that a serious offer? Because I'll take it. Most of this junk just needs to be taken to Goodwill. There are only a few boxes that go to Joe's house."

"What about the furniture?"

I shrugged. "There's nothing I really want. Most of it's crap anyway. I had to sell the good stuff after my E.E. Martin days. Besides my brother-in-law is going to stay here for a while—at least until the lease is up the end of next month, and he'll need it."

Dillon looked disappointed. "Oh. I didn't realize you had someone lined up to sublet."

"Problem?"

"Not really. I was hoping maybe I could take over the lease permanently. It's bigger than the place I've got downstairs, and I've had my eye on it for a while, hoping I could snag it from you."

"Sorry," I apologized. And I was. Dillon had been nothing but great to me over the years. "You can have it for sure when the lease is up—if not sooner." Hopefully Tony wouldn't have destroyed the place before then.

"No problemo. I'll get to work on these boxes." He bent down and picked up one of the larger ones by the door.

"Thanks, Dillon." One less thing for Joe to deal with after work, and Tony could easily move in by nightfall.

By four-thirty the place was empty of all my personal belongings. I'd left the linens and dishes for Tony, but otherwise there was nothing but furniture left. Glancing at my watch, I realized I needed to get going to be on time for the doctor's appointment at five. After one last sweep through the apartment, I swallowed back sentimental emotion and shut the front door behind me, effectively closing the door on what had been a critical chapter in my life.

First the wedding, then Rex and my apartment—now a baby—my life was changing so quickly, along with the people in it, I was becoming afraid to blink for fear something else would be different.

Dillon had put the last of the boxes I wanted to take into the cab of my truck, so after one last quick thanks and good-bye to him, I headed straight for my doctor's office on the outskirts of Trenton. It was a few minutes before five when I pulled into the parking lot, and surprisingly both Joe and Ranger's vehicles were already there and empty. They'd obviously gone inside.

Great. Hopefully they hadn't come to blows in the time it took me to get there.

When I stepped inside the waiting room, the place was intact, but the atmosphere was chilly to be sure. Thankfully, it was the end of the day, and only a few other patients were in the room. Most had managed to find seats far away from Joe and Ranger, who were seated across from one another in one corner of the room and doing everything possible not to make eye contact. The tension between them was palpable, and both were making every attempt not to appear as nervous as they obviously were.

I could hardly blame them. My own stomach was fluttering like a gaggle of geese preparing to take flight.

"Hey," I greeted Joe with a kiss before taking a seat beside him. Giving Ranger a small smile as well, I said, "Thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it, Ba-Stephanie," he responded, giving me another one of his enigmatic looks, followed by a pointed glare at Joe.

Joe ignored him, instead handing me a clipboard with a stack of papers that looked to be about three inches thick. "The receptionist said to give these to you."

"Cripes, what do they want—my whole life story?" I whined, fanning the pages through my fingers.

"Well, at least you have an interesting one to tell them," he encouraged dryly, giving me a smile dimmed by nerves and fatigue. He was watching my face closely. "You look pale, Cupcake. Have you been sick again?"

I simply nodded, and, picking up the pen on the board, set to work answering the multitude of questions before me. "I got the apartment packed and cleaned out though. Tony can move in tonight as planned."

Joe's smile widened. "Seriously? That's great. I talked to my mom on the way over." Seeing my look of panic, he added, "Don't worry, I set her straight on the rumors. She said Tony's still at her place after this morning's meeting with the attorney." He stole a glance at Ranger, who was working on his cell phone in edgy anticipation, and lowered his voice. "I'll tell you more later."

"I have news for you too," I said, still furiously writing. "What time do you think you'll be home?"

He was about to answer when the door leading to the examination rooms opened, and an older-looking nurse came out. "Mrs. Morelli?"

"Over here," I acknowledged anxiously, pen still in hand.

She looked down at me over her reading glasses. "The doctor will see you now, dear—all of you."


	7. Chapter 7

I do not own any of JE's characters.

I usually don't like to put disclaimers, but I felt I needed to on this chapter. While I've done extensive research into paternity testing, I do not claim to be an expert in this area nor have I had personal experience. Therefore, if some of you see errors, I would ask that you remember this is just a story and give me grace! LOL!

Welcome to all of the new readers. Thank you to everyone who left reviews for me on the last chapter, especially to those whom I couldn't personally thank.

And Julie, here's hoping the 3rd effort is the charm! LOL Thanks so much for all you do for me.

* * *

Chapter Seven

"Hi Stephanie, I'm Joanne," the nurse said upon our approach. "Come on back."

Silently we followed her through the labyrinth of hallways to a small examination room in the rear of the medical facility. I was doing okay until we stepped inside the tiny space and saw the table, the stirrups, the paper gown and all that lovely equipment—particularly the speculum. Reality of why I was there hit me squarely in the face, and I freaked.

I couldn't let Joe and Ranger see me in such a vulnerable position—and especially not together!

Whipping around with my arms outstretched, I moved to stop them from coming any further into the room.

"No!"

They both ran into me, and I would have tumbled to the floor had each of them not instinctively reached out a hand. Naturally the fact they had both attempted to help me required vicious he-man glares at one another, which of course required me to level a _she-_glare at both of them.

It was going to be a long appointment.

"Is there a problem, Mrs. Morelli?" Joanne asked, a small smile playing about her lips. She too sensed the oxygen in the room being sucked up by all the testosterone in the air.

"I'm thinking it might be best if I handle this part alone," I said, my head cocked defiantly toward the men. "Some things are a little too private if you know what I mean."

"Understood," she agreed. "Gentlemen, I'm going to ask you to wait next door in Dr. Hamilton's office."

Joe stood aside to allow Ranger to leave without him. Shaking my head, I pointed to the door. "You too."

He looked shocked and more than a little hurt. "Why?"

I waited for the nurse and Ranger to step out before answering. "This situation is awkward enough as it is, and having a pelvic is flat out humiliating. No matter how close we are, there's no way I want you to watch them stick that thing inside of me!" I pointed frantically at the speculum.

His eyebrows shot up. "You don't think I'm going to see that and a hell of a lot more when you _deliver _the baby?"

"You mean you'll have to be there too?" I asked, only half-jokingly.

"Stephanie, this is ridic—"

"They're going to weigh me for God's sake—that's sacred!"

He opened his mouth to protest again, and I lowered my voice. "Maybe during future visits I won't be so uncomfortable, but right now I am. Besides, if I let you stay, Ranger's going to think he has the right to stay too, and I can't handle both of you in here together."

"He's not your husband."

"I know that! But until we find out if the baby is his or yours do you really think that matters to him?"

Joe made an Italian hand-gesture. "Do you really think I care?"

Lowering my voice, I looked at him pleadingly. "I don't have the energy to deal with the animosity between you two. Let me just get through the exam, and then we can all talk with the doctor."

He let out a disgusted huff, but then followed it with a slow, sexy grin. "Fine, but I don't see what the big deal is. I already know how much you weigh, Cupcake."

He caught me off-guard, and my eyes began to narrow. "What?"

"You think I don't know after all the times I've carried you? I'd put your weight at right about—"

"Morelli—"

"Perfect." Dropping a kiss on my nose, he winked and left the room.

That was my husband—ever the wise-ass, looking to diffuse a nerve-wracking situation in his own cocky way. As I undressed and awkwardly wrapped myself in the scratchy gown, I vaguely wondered after today's conversation with Angelina if being a smart aleck had always been Joe's way of coping in the midst of such a screwed up family.

After a few minutes, there was a subtle knock on the door.

"Come in."

Dr. Hamilton strode confidently into the room. I couldn't recall if I'd seen this particular doctor in previous visits—not that I'd ever paid attention. I'd always been more concerned with obtaining my birth control prescription and getting the heck out of there. Somewhere in his early forties, he was tall with sandy brown hair and a piercing gaze. He wasn't in the same league as Joe or Ranger—but still, if I had to endure a pelvic exam, at least I'd be looking at something better than a poster on the ceiling.

"Mrs. Morelli, I'm Stephen Hamilton." He reached out to shake my hand. "Do you mind if I call you Stephanie?"

"No, that's fine," I replied nervously.

He obviously sensed the fear. "I know it's hard, but try and relax. I promise to be as gentle as possible." Reaching for my file, he began, "I understand you're pregnant, correct?"

"Yes."

"And I assume you've taken an at-home test?"

"Yes—ten."

"Ten!" He gave a short laugh. "Well, then I guess it's safe to assume at least one of them was accurate. When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?"

I flushed uncomfortably. "I don't exactly know."

He seemed unfazed. "It happens. Rough guess?"

"Sometime during the third week in August, but I can't be sure."

"Do you usually have regular cycles?"

"More so when I'm consistent with taking my birth control pills." Squirming on top of the exam table, I added, "But I forget those quite a bit and end up using condoms half the time. I lead sort of a hectic life. It's easy to forget things."

Dr. Hamilton studied the chart in his lap. "It says here you're a fugitive apprehension agent. That _would_ be a hectic profession," he said with a grin, and then his eyes lit up. "Wait! I know you—you're the gal from the bus!"

_Great. _I was going to kill Vinnie one of these days for that ridiculous ad campaign. "That's me," I responded with false brightness and a little finger wave. "So anyway—"

"Sorry," he glanced down at his notes again and quickly resumed a professional demeanor. "Joanne said there's also a question of paternity."

"Yes," I whispered. "I—" _God, this was mortifying!_

He set the folder aside and placed his elbows on his knees. "Listen, Stephanie, I realize you don't know me, but I can assure you I'm a professional—and someone you can trust. I'm not here to judge you or lecture you or anything else you might be worrying about unnecessarily. My job is strictly to make sure you and your baby stay healthy through the months ahead."

He smiled. "Joanne told me your husband and the other potential father were asked to go next door into my office, and that they seem a little tense. What do you say we get this exam over with so we can all have a talk?"

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly, my eyes shifting anxiously to the instruments on the metal cart next to him.

Over the next twenty minutes, I was weighed, poked for blood, depleted of urine and forced to endure the dreaded pelvic exam, which was just as awful as I'd remembered. Throughout the process, Dr. Hamilton kept up a running dialogue with me about everything and nothing, but avoided commenting on anything having to do with what he was doing to my body. Every time I'd ask a question, he'd simply smile and say, "Let's wait and talk about it when we're all together, okay?"

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor allowed me to get dressed. Opening the door to the examination room, I stepped out in to the hallway and found Joe leaning against the wall with his arms folded and his eyes closed.

"What in the world are you doing out here?" I asked, giving him a perplexed look.

"Trying to suppress the urge to beat the shit out of Manoso," he admitted sardonically. "I figured it was safer out here." He ran a finger gently down the side of my arm. "You okay?"

"Tired," I responded honestly.

"Come on. Let's get this over with, so you can go home and rest."

Opening the door to the doctor's private office, we found Ranger sitting in one of two chairs in front of the desk. As soon as I entered the room, he became instantly alert and looked expectantly at me.

"You okay?" he asked, repeating Joe's question from only moments ago.

I gave the same response. "Tired."

"Have you eaten anything since lunch?"

I was watching Joe pull up another chair for me and responded without thinking. "A few hours ago. I had some donuts—" _Oops! Probably shouldn't have mentioned that._

"Donuts?" Ranger shook his head grimly, although he didn't look too surprised. "Really, Babe. I thought—

The frustration and anger Joe had been trying to hold back was unleashed. Setting the chair down with a hard thud, he took a step toward Ranger threateningly. "This is the last time I'm telling you, Manoso. _Don't _call her Babe—"

"Okay, both of you stop." I demanded forcefully, raising my hand to stop Joe's forward motion. "This is ridiculous!"

I waited until Joe took a step back and Ranger sat down after having started to rise from his chair. Studying Ranger's face carefully, I knew what I was about to say would hurt him, but I also knew it needed to be said. "Joe's right," I said quietly but assertively—and with a tinge of sadness too. "You need to stop calling me Babe now that we're married."

There was a flash of something in Ranger's eyes as he listened to me, but he remained silent.

"As for the donuts, it doesn't really matter. They came right back up this afternoon, along with everything else I've eaten today."

Joe helped me into a chair and made a point of taking the seat between Ranger and me. At the same time, Ranger reached into the pocket of the coat he'd brought and leaned around Joe to hand me a fruit and nut bar. "Here."

"No thanks," I waved my hand wearily. "I'm not really hungry right now." I was too busy wondering if Dr. Hamilton would mind if I lay down on his couch and took a nap.

Joe encouraged in a softer voice. "Take it, Cupcake. It'll give you some energy until you get home."

Opening the wrapper, I forced myself to take a bite mainly to keep the peace. I just wanted to go home and get those two away from one another. Thankfully the door opened, and Dr. Hamilton entered the room. After quickly introducing himself to Joe and Ranger, he took a seat behind his desk and opened my patient chart.

His first words were, "Stephanie, I can confirm that you are—without a shadow of a doubt—indeed pregnant."

While this was certainly no revelation to me, hearing a doctor say the words brought the reality home even more. I was going to be someone's "Mommy". Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Joe couldn't quite contain a pleased smile. Despite the whole paternity issue, I knew he was excited. He'd been waiting for this moment for the past three years if not longer. A glance further down the line showed Ranger watching me closely with an unidentifiable expression. Was he still upset about my telling him not to call me Babe? Feeling uncomfortable, I turned my attention back to Dr. Hamilton.

"How far along is she?" Joe asked, his voice betraying nerves in addition to his happiness. He reached over and took my hand in his.

Dr. Hamilton frowned. "I wish I could give you an exact date, but without knowing when her last menstrual cycle started, I can only give you an estimate based on the blood test. I believe she's about ten weeks along."

"_Ten _weeks? But that's impossible. I wasn't having sex with anyone ten weeks ago!"

"Correct. You were most likely having your period," the doctor smiled.

"What?" I was so confused.

"Gestation is typically calculated by the date of the last menstrual period or LMP as we call it. So even though conception doesn't take place until approximately 14-16 days later, those first two weeks are still counted as part of the pregnancy."

"You're kidding." I was absolutely dumbfounded. I'd had no idea. Of course why would I need to know such a fact? I'd avoided any talk of pregnancy like the plague during my entire reproductive life cycle.

If it weren't so pitifully sad, I would have laughed at Joe and Ranger. Both were busy consulting the calendars on their respective phones, counting off the weeks. I didn't need a calendar to know what the doctor's announcement meant.

It happened during Vordo week.

"Despite the ambiguity, does this information help at all to distinguish paternity?" Dr. Hamilton asked hopefully.

"No," I answered despondently. "It could be either of them."

I winced as Joe made the same realization and set his jaw, the muscles in his temple contracting. His dream of knowing for sure the baby was his was once again put on hold. He'd have to continue to contend with Ranger for at least a few more days—if not years.

Dr. Hamilton was sympathetic. "I know this is difficult for all of you. I wish I could give you a more definitive answer, but I can't. I _can_ tell you from the examination that for the most part everything looks pretty good with your pregnancy."

"The most part?" Joe and Ranger acknowledged the doctor's peculiar phrasing at the same time.

I immediately followed with, "Pretty good?"

Dr. Hamilton put his fingers in a tent-like position over his nose. "I'm concerned about a few things—the first being your weight and the fact that you're very anemic, Stephanie."

"My weight?" Jeez, was he going to tell me I weighed too much already?

"You're awfully thin. That coupled with the anemia isn't a good combination.

I would have kissed the man if it weren't for the fact I could tell he was concerned. No one had _ever _told me I was too thin before. But when I stopped to think about it, I had been eating a lot less in the past five weeks—ever since Joe had given me the ultimatum about our relationship. First I'd been too confused and upset to eat, and then too busy with the Kennard Case, our whirlwind engagement, the wedding and our honeymoon.

"Does that mean there's something wrong with the baby?" For the second time that day, I was concerned for the life within me. Slowly but surely it was beginning to sink into my brain that there was another living creature inside my body depending on me for survival.

"Not necessarily, but it _does_ mean he or she isn't getting enough nutrition. Neither are you for that matter."

"What can we do to counter the anemia?" Joe asked, leaning forward questioningly. He was still holding my hand, and I could tell he was worried by how sweaty his palm was against mine.

"The first thing will be to get Stephanie on prenatal vitamins right away, along with an iron supplement," he advised. "Eating foods rich in iron like spinach, kale, edamame, and beef will also help.

_Spinach? Kale? And what the hell was edamame? _My stomach rolled at the mention of beef.

"Seeing how thin you are, I gather you're very particular about watching your diet anyway, so these adjustments shouldn't be too difficult to make."

Ranger snorted out a laugh, and I turned to give him the eye.

"She's been having trouble keeping anything down since yesterday morning," Joe observed quickly, rolling his eyes at _both _of us.

"Define anything?" Dr. Hamilton addressed me.

"I don't know—it's weird. I felt fine until the middle of last week when I started having this bizarre aversion to anything having to do with meat. Then on our flight home from Barbados, Saturday, I started feeling queasy. By yesterday morning, I started in with the vomiting, and I've pretty much been getting sick any time I eat—no matter what the food choice."

The doctor nodded his head and thought for a moment. "Normally, I wouldn't be too concerned. I'm sure you're aware that food aversions and morning sickness—even all day sickness—are very common in pregnancy, especially during the early stages. However, this anemia and a couple of other factors have me concerned enough that I'd like to put you on Zofran for a while. It'll ease the nausea tremendously and allow you to eat."

"Is it safe?" Joe asked.

"Perfectly safe in situations like this. It is incredibly expensive, however, and a lot of insurance companies won't cover it. Do you have good insurance?"

_Was the man joking? I didn't have ANY insurance!_ Until marrying Joe, I'd barely had enough money for groceries at the end of the month let alone something as important as insurance.

I gave Joe a panic-stricken glance. His insurance company certainly wasn't going to take on a pre-existing condition like mine. We hadn't been home long enough to complete the paperwork putting me on his plan. Hell, I hadn't even legally changed my name to Morelli yet with Social Security. What were we supposed to do?

"I'll cover the cost," Ranger informed the doctor. "Just get her the medicine."

"No!" Joe said determinedly, shooting a fierce look at Ranger. Forcing himself to close his eyes and take a calming breath, he added in a lower voice, "No thanks. We can take care of the cost."

Ranger opened his mouth to argue, and Dr. Hamilton neatly cut him off. "Okay, it's settled. I'll write the prescription before you leave. As for the food aversion, try as best as you can to tough it out. Right now, Stephanie, you need protein and iron—and lots of it. The best thing you could do is go home tonight and have a nice juicy steak."

The mere thought of a steak had me ready to puke all over his shiny mahogany desk, but my mind was more focused on something he'd said a few minutes ago. "What other concerns do you have?"

"For one thing your blood pressure. Does it normally run so low?" he asked, consulting his paperwork. "We registered it at 90/50 today, which could of course be attributed to the anemia. Still—"

"My blood pressure has always been really low. It's a hereditary thing on my mom's side of the family."

"I used to have low blood pressure too," Joe muttered under his breath, "until three years ago."

I gave him the same look I'd given Ranger moments ago only rather than looking threatened, he gave me a wink instead.

"There are a couple of other things I'll want to look into and discuss with you at a later point, but for now I think the most important thing for us to do is get this question of paternity taken care of. That'll allow all of you to move forward."

"I've been doing some research on paternity testing," Ranger spoke up. He shifted his body toward the doctor. "Everything I've read indicates SNP Microarray technology is the least invasive and best route to take."

"What the heck is SNP Microarray?" I asked, swiveling my head back and forth between Ranger and Dr. Hamilton. I didn't like the sound of it at all.

Dr. Hamilton nodded his head. "Yes, SNP is the logical choice, particularly since it can be done as early as the ninth week."

"What. Is. It?" I repeated through gritted teeth. I was beginning to feel as though discussions and decisions were being made without my participation.

"It used to be pregnant women would have to undergo amniocentesis to determine paternity," Dr. Hamilton explained. "Now—"

"What's amniocentesis?" _Okay, was I the only medical idiot here?_

"It's a procedure that draws amniotic fluid out of the uterus using a thin needle."

"What!" _No way!_ Nobody was sticking a needle into _my_ belly. I looked desperately at Joe, who seemed as clueless as I was.

"So what's SNP Microarray?" he asked, giving my hand a squeeze. I was so thankful he was there sharing the burden of ignorance with me.

"It's a non-invasive procedure that doesn't require a needle. Instead it uses new technology that involves preserving and analyzing the baby's DNA found naturally in the mother's bloodstream."

"You mean Stephanie's blood can show the DNA of the baby?" Joe looked about as astonished as I felt.

"Yes. The test is 99.9% accurate, using as little as a tiny quantity of DNA found in a single cell."

"That's amazing," he murmured, and I had to agree.

"It is," Dr. Hamilton concurred. "By taking blood samples from Stephanie and one of you gentlemen, they'll be able to tell the paternity of the baby. I'd like to recommend, however, Mr. Morelli, that you and Mr. Manoso both submit blood samples should there be a need for a legal paternity test."

"Now what does _that_ mean—legal paternity test?" I questioned. This was all getting too complicated. I just wanted to go home, go to bed, and wake up tomorrow to find myself back in Barbados with Joe. I missed our Penthouse Suite, and our boat-like bed, and the beach, and even Marina.

Mostly, I missed my husband.

I swear the man could read my mind half the time. Still holding my hand, Joe brought it to his lips and gave it a quick kiss, indicating his support.

Dr. Hamilton leaned back further in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "This is where it starts getting tricky. There are a couple of options available to you regarding paternity testing. The first thing to determine is Mr. Manoso's interest in this child."

"Define interest," Ranger stated calmly.

"According to New Jersey law, as Stephanie's husband, Mr. Morelli is presumed to be the father of her baby."

"I didn't see that in any of my research," Ranger's voice had an immediate edge to it.

Dr. Hamilton continued, "If the baby is yours, Mr. Manoso, you can only be named the legal father if you've filled out an AOP _and _Mr. Morelli signs a denial of paternity. Otherwise, you'll have to take the matter to court."

"What the hell is an AOP?"

"An Acknowledgement of Paternity form."

"I'm confused," I interjected. Actually, I was more than confused. I was getting downright scared. This was serious shit we were talking about.

"That's why I said Mr. Manoso needs to determine his interest in being involved in the life of this child should he indeed prove to be the father."

We all continued to look blankly at Dr. Hamilton.

"There are two types of paternity tests—legal and at-home. If your interest is purely out of curiosity, you can all wait and take an at-home test later after the baby is born. It involves a simple swab of the cheek. The results are equally as accurate as the blood test, however, they're not capable of being submitted in a court case."

"Court case?" I echoed nervously. That was the second time he'd used that word.

"Mr. Manoso, if you desire to complete an AOP, you'll want to go to an accredited DNA facility here in Trenton to do the SNP Microarray test. The results of that test are binding and would uphold in a paternity case. Like I said, Mr. Morelli is legally considered the father unless you prove otherwise. If he refuses to sign the denial of paternity, you'll have to go to court."

"What if I am the father, and I complete the AOP and Morelli _does _deny paternity? What then?"

"Then you can privately work among yourselves and your attorneys to determine custody and other issues relating to the baby."

_Custody. My_ hands were sweating now—my whole body was.

"What if the at-home test indicates I'm the father?" Ranger was looking more unsettled as the meeting wore on.

"Again, that would be up to all of you, but without the AOP and the legal paternity test, you would have no authorized rights to your child. Mr. Morelli would be considered the lawful father."

There was nothing but silence for several long moments while the three of us tried to process all that the doctor had said. While I could appreciate the obvious turmoil going on inside the minds of both Joe and Ranger, my own mind was filled with nothing but anger—anger at myself for having gotten into this predicament, anger with God for allowing it to happen and anger at a legal system that had left me completely powerless. I felt like I'd been stripped of any control in this situation. It was up to Joe and Ranger to determine who was going to be the father of my baby—regardless of actual paternity.

I had become nothing but an incubator.

"I realize this is a lot to absorb," Dr. Hamilton finally spoke quietly. "And I think you all need time to discuss the ramifications. Why don't you go home and call me tomorrow—"

"I want to complete the AOP," Ranger interrupted quietly.

My head swung around, and my mouth dropped open. "What! You do?" I looked at him in confusion. "But why?"

"I can't believe you'd even ask me that question," Ranger replied, his eyes reflecting his hurt. "You should know me well enough by now to know the answer." _God, I probably should, but I didn't._

Joe dropped his head backward and glared at the ceiling in frustration. "Shit, I told you he'd see this as a way to keep you in his life—"

Ranger crossed his legs and closed down emotionally—even more so than usual. "My reasons are _my _business, Morelli. Now are you going to sign the denial of paternity or not?"

"Of course not, you idiot." He looked at Ranger as though he'd lost his mind. "Firstly, I _know_ I'm the actual father, and secondly, Stephanie is _my wife_. Even if I'm not the father, what's part of her is part of me. What _part_ of that can't you understand?"

Dr. Hamilton took one look at my dazed expression and cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, please. This isn't doing Stephanie or the baby any good, alright?"

Joe tried to rein in his temper. "You're right, Dr. Hamilton. I'm sorry, Cupcake."

"I'm sorry too, Ba-_Stephanie_." Ranger emphasized my name, letting me know he was heeding my request.

I was still in shock. _Ranger wanted to be a father to my baby? _He acted like I was supposed to understand his decision when all I'd ever seen was that he already had a child—one with whom he barely had a relationship. Why would this situation be any different? Was Joe right, and he wanted to use the baby to somehow remain linked to me? Did he somehow see this as an opportunity to recapture what he never had with Julie? Was this some kind of do-over? I was completely confused and beyond exhausted.

"I want to go home," I whispered to Joe.

"That's an excellent idea, Stephanie," Dr. Hamilton said supportively. "You need food and rest—in that order." Addressing Ranger, he added, "Mr. Manoso, are you sure of your intent?"

"I'm sure," Ranger responded without any hesitation.

Joe exhaled loudly, but remained silent. I didn't know what to say either, and we both looked uncertainly at one another.

"Okay. You'll need to consult with your attorney then about the best way to proceed, as I only handle the medical end of things." Reaching into his desk drawer, he retrieved a couple of business cards and distributed them to both Joe and Ranger. "In the meantime, I recommend you call the local DNA Diagnostic Center here in Trenton to set up a time for you to go in and give blood samples—and the sooner the better. You can usually get results on SNP within 5 business days. I'd really like to see this resolved soon, so that Stephanie can start putting her attention where it belongs—on taking care of herself and this baby."

"What about working?" Joe asked hesitantly. I could tell he was afraid to ask, fearing I'd think he was trying to railroad me into staying home.

Dr. Hamilton frowned. "If you had a normal 8-5 job, I'd say in a couple of weeks you could return to work. But I'll be honest with you, Stephanie. If you don't start getting some rest and nutrition; you could very easily lose your child. I strongly recommend you consider giving up bounty hunting until after the baby is born."

I couldn't help it; it was too much to handle in one day, and I started crying. _Shit, I was an awful mother already! _I hadn't even had the baby yet, and I'd endangered him or her. Without thinking, my hand moved to rest over my abdomen, and I turned to look at Joe. Slowly his eyes darkened in the most sensuous and possessive gaze I'd ever seen, and he gently laid his hand over mine.

I wondered if he perceived the reality of our situation and felt equally as powerless.

Ranger immediately stood. "Thank you, Dr. Hamilton," he said, reaching across the desk to shake hands with the doctor. Ignoring Joe, he addressed me in an even tone. "Do you want me to call the DDC or will you?"

"I'll do it," I said, acknowledging him with a single nod. It was breaking my heart to be at odds like this with Ranger—especially over something as critical as this. I was afraid my chance to maintain a friendship with him was slipping away, and that saddened me. I needed to talk with him privately—soon.

He nodded back. "Fine."

And he was gone.

Fifteen minutes later, Joe and I were in the parking lot next to my truck. He pulled me into his arms and rested his chin on top of my head. "We need to talk."

_Hadn't I just thought the same thing about Ranger and me?_

"I know," I sniffed. I was still an emotional wreck. "But you need to get back to work."

"To hell with that," he swore. "You think I can concentrate on my job right now? I've been fucking going out of my mind all day, Steph. I'm totally useless, and that's not a good thing for a cop."

"I'm sorry—" my voice hitched.

"Shhh," he ran his hands up and down my back. "My frustration isn't directed toward you."

"Why is he doing this?" I broke in, angry and bewildered at the same time.

He sighed. "Manoso? Who the hell knows why he does _anything _he does? That's part of what we need to talk about."

At some point, I would need to tell Joe about my plan to talk with Ranger privately. I knew the only way he would open up about his reasons for wanting to claim paternity would be if Joe weren't in the picture. But now was not the time.

"I appreciated your support in there," I said somewhat awkwardly. I still didn't fully understand where we stood as a couple anymore.

"And I appreciated yours," he returned seriously, his mouth brushing against my ear. "It meant a lot to hear _you_ tell Ranger to stop calling you Babe."

Out of nowhere fear gripped me. "I'm scared, Joe," I whispered in a barely audible voice. "I haven't even had time to truly grasp the fact that I'm pregnant, and now I'm already in danger of losing this baby."

"You're _not _going to lose the baby. We're going to take good care of both of you, and everything's going to be fine," he said in a reassuring tone.

"But what if—"

He shook his head. "Let's not worry about the "what if's" right now. I need to get you home and fed. You sure you're not too tired to drive?"

"I'm fine."

He looked doubtful, but smiled. "Okay. I'm going to run by the pharmacy and get this prescription filled, and then I'll make dinner while you take a nap."

"You're going to cook?" My eyebrow went up curiously.

"You've had my cooking before, and I didn't kill you, did I?"

"No, it's not that. I just meant—aren't you tired?"

"Not too tired to make sure you get something healthy to eat."

"What about Tony?"

"Oh _shit_!" Joe closed his eyes in disgust. "I forgot all about him. I'm going to have to go by and pick him up at my mom's, and then take him to the apartment, which means I'll have to stop and get him groceries since he won't be able to drive."

"Can't he just stay at your mom's for one night? Tell her to lock up her booze."

Joe looked worried. "I'm scared he'll sneak out on her and get into trouble."

"What's to prevent him from sneaking out of the apartment?" I asked logically.

"I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head in discouragement. "Nothing, I guess. I should have thought all of this through better."

I gave a loud sigh. "Just bring him back to our place. One more night won't kill us while we figure this out."

"No way! Not after last night," he shook his head adamantly. "Let me see if I can get Cathy or Mary to take him. You go home and rest. I'll be there as soon as I can with the Zofran."

Joe opened the driver's side door to help me climb in. "Jesus!" he immediately stepped backward, pulling me with him. "What's that funky odor? It smells like pot."

"You're just now noticing my truck smells like marijuana?" I looked at him in surprise. "It's always been that way. Didn't you smell it when we drove to and from Rangeman during the Kennard Case?"

"Evidently not. I must've been too busy trying not to get killed," he responded dryly. "No wonder you were soaked this morning. I bet you drove around all day with your head out the window, didn't you?"

I didn't answer, which was answer enough for Joe. "Why the hell haven't you said something to me, Stephanie? You can't drive around in this piece of shit!" He handed me the keys to his SUV. "Here. Take mine, and I'll drive yours home. We'll see about trading it in tomorrow for something better."

"No, it's okay. We have enough things to worry about paying for—"

"Please don't fight me on this." He said it lightly, but I could tell this was another pride issue for him. "And stop worrying about money. Jeez, you act like I'm destitute. I make a decent salary, and we still have quite a bit left from what Mrs. Comensoli gave me should the need arise."

"Okay," I acquiesced without further argument, leaning up to kiss him softly on the cheek. "Thank you."

I had meant for it to be an innocent kiss, but Joe turned his head at the last minute, so that our lips touched instead. "You're welcome," he said huskily, brushing back the hair from my forehead. He stared longingly at me for several heated moments. "You're so goddamned beautiful, Cupcake. Sometimes it makes me forget everything else but you."

My heart soared, and I was afraid to break the spell. Joe finally pulled away and opened the door to his vehicle. No sooner had I slipped behind the wheel than he leaned in and kissed me again—this time slipping his tongue through my lips to slowly tangle with mine. "Be careful," he rasped and shut the door.

My heart was still pounding as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward home. What had those kisses meant? I wanted so badly to be able to crawl inside Joe's head and find out what he was thinking—about so many things. What did he think about the paternity issue? Was he getting closer to forgiving me? Every time he showed me affection in some way, it gave me hope that somehow we'd eventually find a way to move beyond this dark place in our relationship.

Unfortunately, I also needed to figure out what was going on in Ranger's head? And that wasn't a conversation I was looking forward to.


	8. Chapter 8

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Okay, Good New/Bad News Folks:

The good news is I was able to get a chapter ready before my fabulous Beta reader Julie left on vacation. Her vacation is good news too, right? She deserves the break! This chapter is not high-drama nor does it move the storyline along significantly, but it is _something _to tide you over, because...

The bad news is my fabulous Beta reader Julie - the one who I just said is on that well-deserved vacation - won't be back until the 15th, thus this will be the only chapter you see for the next week. LOL!

I promise to write frantically in her absence, and perhaps I will be able to reward your patience with _two _chapters upon her return. No promises...but I'll try.

Seriously, thanks for the continued support of this storyline from so many, including those whom I cannot respond to personally. And thanks to Julie, my fabulous Beta reader, who is on vacation. Did I mention she's fabulous? And that she's on vacation? LOL! Hope she's enjoying her well-deserved time-off.

* * *

Chapter Eight

No sooner had I left the doctor's office than I remembered Tony's suitcase was still sitting in the back of my truck. Growling in exasperation, I turned my cell phone back on to call Joe and noticed my mother had left four more voicemail messages, which naturally led to another growl—this one longer and louder. It was time to give in and talk with her about all of the Burg gossip surrounding me, but first I needed to let Joe know about the doggone suitcase. Punching his speed dial, I waited expectantly for the little thrill that always raced through my system whenever I heard the sound of his voice.

He picked up after the first ring. "Hey Cupcake—too tired to drive after all?"

"No, I'm fine, but I forgot to tell you there's a suitcase in the back of the truck for Tony from Angelina."

"Why would you have—wait—did you go see her?" He sounded both surprised and pleased.

"Yeah. I'll tell you about my visit later though, okay? Just make sure you pass along the suitcase to Tony."

"Did Angie happen to mention anything about Paulie? I've tried to track him down on his phone a couple of times today, but the SOB's still not answering."

"No, but I have some ideas about that too." Glancing at the dashboard clock, I continued. "Listen, it's almost six-thirty already. Why don't I stop by my parent's house and grab some leftovers, so you don't have to worry about trying to cook."

There was a short silence on his end. "That's fine—I guess," he answered almost reluctantly. "I don't mind making you something though."

"I know you don't, but you're tired too, Joe. I don't want you having to take care of me."

"Maybe I _like_ taking care of you," he bantered, and then lowered his voice. "I _do _like taking care of you."

A combination of happiness and guilt washed through me at the same time. It was such a relief to hear him saying things like that after the explosive revelations from yesterday, but I also felt guilty knowing we really hadn't resolved our issues. In truth, we'd probably only added to them today at the doctor's office.

"I know you do, but after all that's happened—"

"Stephanie, would you _please _stop with the guilt?" Joe cut me off exasperatedly. "You act like I want you to walk around with a Scarlett letter tattooed to your forehead or something. I told you I'm working on my feelings. Let it go."

"I can't help it; I feel badly!" I shot back. "And I have no idea where I stand with you right now. It's making me crazy."

"Then obviously we have more to talk about than just Ranger and this paternity deal." He blew out a sigh of frustration. "I'm sorry. You're right—I am tired. Go ahead and eat at your parent's. Think you can do it without the Zofran? Your mom almost always has some kind of meat for dinner."

For one fraction of a second, I'd forgotten all about the morning sickness. _Blech!_ The thought of eating meat was still abhorrent, but if it meant Joe and I would be able to focus on us rather than wasting time preparing a meal, I'd tough it out. I really didn't care much about eating anyway. I just wanted to go to bed.

"It'll probably all come back up on me," I acknowledged gloomily, "but my Mom has been harassing my cell phone all day—probably about all of the rumors. Might as well kill two birds with one stone and go smooth her feathers, I guess."

Joe sniggered. "I think you're mixing your bird metaphors, but I get it. I'm pulling into Walgreen's right now. I'll get the prescription, take care of passing Tony off to either Cathy or Mary and meet you at home as fast as I can."

"Thanks," I acknowledged softly. "See you soon."

"Count on it," he agreed. After a short pause, he added, "I love you, Steph."

My throat hitched. "I love you too."

* * *

Ten minutes later, I pulled up in front of my parent's house only to find the place completely dark and empty. _Hunh. _That was bizarre. My father wasn't one to go out to eat much to begin with and certainly not on a Monday night when senior specials were hard to find. After getting out and knocking several times on the front door, I gave up and headed for home.

Soon after I turned onto Slater only to find my dad's cab and another car I didn't immediately recognize parked in front of the house. It was almost dark outside, so it wasn't until I pulled into the driveway that I noticed five people standing in my driveway—my parents, Grandma Mazur, Mrs. Morelli and Grandma Bella. Well that explained whom the other car belonged to. They all looked half-frozen waiting in the chill of the late October evening. What in the world were they all doing at the house?

Pulling Joe's SUV into the driveway, I slowly turned off the engine and climbed out to face five pairs of eyes staring at me in varying forms of concern. My mother was the first to speak.

"Omigod—it's true!" she wailed. "You've kicked Joseph out for good, and now you've taken his car. Stephanie, how could you! The man can't help it if he's impotent. Maybe there are things that can be done to—"

"_What!"_ I exclaimed in total shock. This was worse than Lula's bombshell that morning. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Stephanie—language!" My mother scolded out of habit with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. "Your grandmother heard from Loretta that Agnes Beaumont was over at the Cut 'N Curl this afternoon telling everyone you learned that Joseph—" Her voice dropped significantly as she stumbled for the right words. "Uh—that you found out—well—that is—that he—"

"That he's got nothin' but blanks," Grandma Mazur spoke up, using her thumb and forefinger to imitate shooting a gun. She was clutching her pocketbook against her chest, and she and Grandma Bella were swaying back and forth on their sturdy, low-heeled pumps in an effort to keep warm. They looked like two scrawny chickens strutting around a barnyard.

"Mother, _please!_" my mother snapped. Turning back to me, she continued, "The latest word in the neighborhood is you learned Joseph was unable to have children when you were on your honeymoon, so that's why you've left him for Anthony."

I was speechless. Looking frantically at Mrs. Morelli, my mouth opened but nothing came out.

Mrs. Morelli did a pretty darn good version of a Burg eye roll and said, "I've tried all afternoon to tell her to stop listening to these crazy rumors, Stephanie. I _talked _to Joe, and I know everything is okay with you two. But your mother insists—"

"How would I know it's not true?" my mother demanded hysterically, flapping her arms for effect. "My own daughter won't ever return my phone calls. Better yet—she won't_call _me herself to tell me what's going on. What am I supposed to think?"

"Instead of thinking—how about trusting?" I asked bitterly, finally recovering my voice. "Good grief, didn't you just watch us get married last week? Didn't you see how happy we were?"

"Trust you! Are you kidding me?" she countered shrilly. "I've learned _never_ to trust anything that involves the two of you!"

I was glaring at her when my father spoke up. "Can we move this conversation inside? It's damn cold out here, and I'm starving." Pushing a button on his watch, he peered down at it in the dark. "Christ, it's twenty to seven already. Helen?"

"Fine. We'll go inside," she agreed on a huff. "Frank, grab the food out of the trunk." My dad and Mrs. Morelli marched off to their respective vehicles.

"You brought food?" I asked stupidly. I was still reeling over the notion that people were spreading lies about my husband being unable to father a child. Who would have thought I would actually long for people to get back to the CIA rumor! And exactly how was _this _little gem of gossip going to affect our current paternity predicament?

"I figured with all of this talk running rampant, _something_ had to be wrong," my mother explained. "And when I couldn't get a hold of you all day, I insisted we come see you. I asked Angela along, hoping she could encourage you to give Joseph another chance."

"And _I _came to prove your mother is upset over _nothing_!' Mrs. Morelli stated matter-of-factly, as she schlepped her way back up the driveway. She had two loaves of French bread in her left hand, a cake carrier in her right and was balancing a salad of some sort on her forearm.

"Where _is _Joseph, anyway?" my mother inquired anxiously.

"He's picking up Tony from—" It dawned on me that Tony was supposed to be at his mother's house _with _his mother. I gave Mrs. Morelli a panic-stricken stare. "Where's Tony! I thought he was supposed to be with you at your place? Joe's headed over there right now to pick him up."

My mother-in-law shook her head. "Paulie came by about an hour ago, and the two of them took off. I have no idea where, but they told me not to worry."

_Not to worry? _Good Lord, the woman was obviously delusional if she thought it was a good thing for those two to head off together—_anywhere._

"I'm sorry, Stephanie," she apologized. You don't need all of these crazy rumors and our family drama to be ruining your newlywed happiness. It's this mess with Anthony that has everything out of whack."

"Oh there's more to it than that," Grandma Bella spoke for the first time, eyeing me closely with her scary gaze. "Isn't there, Stephanie?"

_Now what the hell was that supposed to mean? _Was she intimating she knew something else? Omigod—could it be she knew about the baby? What was I saying—of course she knew about the baby. It was her damned eyeball that started this whole freakin' mess in the first place! Okay, so maybe it was my overactive libido that got me into trouble—but still.

Where was Joe when I needed him?

My father approached with a cardboard box filled with food. "Stephanie, open the door already, will ya? Jesus, let's quit yapping and eat. The Rangers and the Devils are on at seven."

After cautioning the two grandmothers to step aside, I unlocked the door and opened it to a deliriously happy Bob. He was out the door in a flash, dancing around my "guests" and then dashing into the yard to do his business. Everyone trooped inside—with Bob and I slowly bringing up the rear. My fatigue had become so great I felt as though I was trudging through water just to get up the front steps.

Inside, the mothers had already taken over the kitchen. Grandma Bella discovered the dish cupboard and began setting the table, while my father paced the living area and vexed over the fact he was off his schedule. Setting down my bag, I watched Grandma Mazur motion me into the front hallway.

"What is it, Grandma?" I asked wearily.

She leaned closer with a gleam in her eye. "Tell me. How was the honeymoon?"

"It was great," I responded simply, hoping she'd drop the subject. I wasn't in the mood to think about how happy I'd been only a week ago when everything in my life was currently so unsettled.

"How were the toys?" she persisted. "Did you get through the whole bag? What was your favorite? Did you try the oil? Did your hair get blown back? Is that how you found out Joe was—"

I was ready to burst into tears again thinking about the fun we'd had working our way through that silly gift bag of hers. _Oh, if only we were back in Barbados!_

"The honeymoon was _great_, Grandma," I repeated. "That's all I'm saying."

"You're no fun," Grandma frowned. "How am I supposed to know what to buy for myself if you won't share?"

I shuddered at the thought of her using any of those sex toys and quickly steered her toward the table to avoid further conversation. My mother was setting a huge platter of fried chicken down next to reheated bowls of mashed potatoes, green beans and corn. The French bread had been sliced and put on another plate, and a glass of wine rested at each place setting. There was even an extra plate set for Joe. _If only he'd hurry!_

Sliding lethargically into a seat, I took one look at the fried chicken and closed my eyes. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, and yet I knew I absolutely had to eat something first—and soon.

"Frank, come sit down," my mother called out loudly, despite the fact my dad was standing ten feet away in the living area.

He looked at his watch again. "Damn it, the pre-game's on already. You got cable, Stephanie?"

Leaning an elbow on the table, I propped up my head with my hand and nodded. "Remote's on top of the TV." I stifled a yawn while everyone else hustled to find a seat.

My father found the channel and joined us. "Let's eat," he commanded tersely, reaching for the chicken. He placed two pieces on his plate, and handed the platter to me. In turn, I quickly passed it across Joe's empty seat to Mrs. Morelli."

"You don't want chicken?" she asked me, shock evident on her face and in her voice.

"Not tonight, thanks," I mumbled, reaching for the mashed potatoes instead. Oddly enough, those looked appealing—in fact, _really _appealing. Not realizing I had emptied half the bowl onto my plate, I glanced up to see four of those same five sets of eyes watching me in wonder—everyone that is except for Grandma Bella. She raised her eyebrow and looked pointedly at my plate, then me.

"Don't you think the rest of us might like to have some potatoes, dear?" my mother asked, trying to sound polite in front of Joe's mom, but letting me know by her expression I was not following proper table etiquette.

I really didn't care. Those potatoes were the first thing that had actually tasted good to my stomach all day, and I wasn't about to let anyone spoil my enjoyment of them. Ignoring my mother, I asked politely. "Would someone please pass the butter?"

Bob instantly went crazy as the back door opened, and Joe stepped cautiously into the kitchen. He'd no doubt seen the cars out front.

"Hey Bob," he greeted the dog with a quick rub behind the ears.

"Hi—_honey_—look who's come to dinner?" I sang out with false enthusiasm. "Isn't this something?"

"It's something all right," he returned, far less joyfully. Slipping off his leather jacket, he tossed it, a Walgreen's bag and my truck keys onto the counter. He then strode over to the table brushed a kiss against my forehead, followed by one on his mother's cheek, before taking the seat next to mine.

Turning to his mom, he immediately asked, "Where's Tony?"

Mrs. Morelli responded sheepishly, "Paulie picked him up about an hour ago. I don't know where they went."

Joe's blood pressure immediately shot through the roof. "You what! Jesus, tell me you're joking, Ma. You seriously did not let those two go off together."

"Well, what was I supposed to do!" she cried. "They're grown men; they don't listen to me anymore. They're just like your fath—"

Joe was on his feet in a heartbeat—cell phone in hand, punching in numbers for first one brother than the other. When neither of them took his calls, he dialed the precinct and informed dispatch to have anyone on duty keep an eye out for them.

"I can't believe you didn't call me first," Joe returned to his seat and plunked the phone down beside him. "If Tony decides to skip—"

"Perhaps we should worry about that after dinner," my mother trilled, trying to get the meal back on track. "Have something to eat, Joseph. And let me tell you how _glad _I am to see you."

Joe looked at her in surprise. "You are?" He shook his head. "I mean—thanks. It's good to see you too, Mrs. Plum—uh—Helen." Eyeing the rapidly diminishing mountain of potatoes on my plate, he couldn't help but smile at me. "I guess I'll give the green beans a try, seeing as Stephanie seems to have cornered the market on potatoes."

He quickly scooped some beans onto his plate and scanned everyone's expectant faces at the table. "So—what's the occasion? What made you all decide to bring dinner over like this—not that I'm complaining?"

"We _had_ to come," Grandma Mazur winked conspiratorially at Joe.

"Had to?" he repeated blankly.

She casually reached across the table to hand him the plate of bread. "Yep—we had to make sure you were okay—what with your ineffective sperm and all."

The plate dropped with a loud thud, and several pieces flew off of the table and onto the floor. An ecstatic Bob was there in a flash to retrieve them, while poor Joe sat there with his mouth hanging open.

"What—did—you—say?" he whispered, completely staggered. He turned his face toward me. "What did she say?"

My mouth was stuffed with mashed potatoes, which were friggin' delicious—the best I'd ever tasted. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a word out before swallowing. Grandma Mazur took advantage of the situation and happily offered Joe an explanation.

"Rumor has it you've got no swimmers, Officer Hottie. Remember back when we were all shocked that Albert had swimmers? He couldn't believe it himself when Val got pregnant. Huh—turns out all this time we should've been worrying about _you_ instead."

"Must we talk about this at the table?" my father interrupted curtly from his hunched position over his plate. "Christ, it's embarrassing enough to know our son-in-law won't be able to get the job done. Do we really need to humiliate him as well?"

"He _can _too get the job done," Mrs. Morelli defended her son hotly. "I've told you repeatedly this is nothing but silly gossip. Tell him, Joseph. Tell _all_ of them how mobile your sperm are!"

"Oh my God, why not just shoot me now," Joe muttered. He slumped down into his chair and closed his eyes. "I don't fucking believe this."

I broke away from the love affair I was having with those potatoes to peek at him out the corner of my eye. His face was beet red—even his ears. I'd never seen him more embarrassed in my life and knew it was time to save him. "Mom, it's _nothing_ but a ridiculous rumor—one of many I've heard today. All because I left my stupid truck at the apartment overnight for a purely innocent reason."

"We didn't want to believe this particular rumor either," my mother informed Joe. "With your good looks, we've always thought of you as being so virile. But—"

"_Enough_ of this foolishness already!" Grandma Bella announced brusquely, banging her fork on the tabletop. "My grandson is perfectly capable of getting his wife pregnant. For God's sake, the girl's already with child!"

My eyes widened, and my fork clattered to the plate.

_Oh shit. Oh shit. It was true—the old witch really did have the eye. She knew!_

I looked frantically at Joe, who was still trying to recover from the entire conversation.

Silence surrounded the table while we all tried to process Bella's outburst. My mother was the first to recover.

"You're pregnant?" she marveled.

"Oh, Stephanie," Mrs. Morelli breathed. "Is it true?"

"Well that shoots the rumor about Joe's sperm all to hell now, doesn't it?" Grandma Mazur nodded, tossing back a swallow of her wine. "I never doubted you, Joe."

I didn't know what to do. The last thing I wanted was to tell anyone about my pregnancy, especially with the whole paternity issue at stake. But I also didn't want to resort to lies anymore—particularly not to my own family. I glared at Grandma Bella for putting me into this quandary. In turn, she merely raised her eyebrow again, daring me to respond. It was almost as if she were saying, "Gotcha!"

Even my father raised his head to stare at me.

I gave one last look at Joe who shrugged his shoulders to let me know it was my call, although I could tell he too was waiting to see how I'd handle the situation. Was he testing me to see if I'd tell the truth or not? I couldn't tell whether he _wanted_ me to keep things quiet or spill the beans. Somehow I felt compelled to at least eradicate the notion in people's minds that he was impotent.

"Tell them, Stephanie," Grandma Bella insisted, accusing me with her eyes.

I took a deep breath and whispered the fateful words. "It's true."

The two mothers gasped simultaneously. My mother covered her mouth with here her hands, and Mrs. Morelli began to smile. Bella had a self-satisfied smirk on her face; Grandma Mazur looked giddy, and even my father looked pleased.

"Congratulations!"

"When did you find out?"

"How far along are you?"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"How are you feeling?"

The questions and comments were fired at me like bullets. Joe recovered enough from his own shock to slip an arm around my shoulders and place his other hand over mine in my lap. "We just found out for sure today ourselves," he explained, and I noticed the smile from the doctor's office was back on his face again. Come to think of it, now that everyone had stopped questioning his virility, he seemed pretty damn happy.

"Oh, this is the best news our family could possibly have right now. I can't wait to tell everyone," Mrs. Morelli enthused, reaching out to touch Joe's cheek. "Congratulations, sweetheart—and of course you too, Stephanie."

"Wait!" I burst out in a panic. "No." I couldn't let them tell anyone _anything _until we knew for certain the results of the paternity test.

"What do you mean no?" my mother questioned with a confused look on her face.

I opened my mouth and floundered for the right words. Thankfully, Joe knew exactly what I was thinking and stepped in smoothly. "We weren't going to tell anyone for a few more weeks, Helen, but seeing as Grandma has once again made a miraculous guess—"

"It was no guess," Bella shook her head seriously. She pointed to her head. "I had a vision."

"Of course you did," Joe rolled his eyes, not believing a word she said. _How could he not?_

"Why can't we tell anyone?" Mrs. Morelli demanded impatiently, steering the conversation back on track.

Joe ran his fingers up and down my shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Stephanie is having an issue with anemia as well as some pretty bad morning sickness. We don't want to spread the news around too quickly until those things are under control first."

_Okay, so that answer was only part of the truth, but if it worked for Joe, it worked for me._

"You have anemia?" my mother fretted. "Is the baby all right?"

Again Joe took the lead. "The doctor said the baby will be fine as long as Stephanie takes it easy for awhile and gives her body a chance to replenish the iron and some proper nutrition. He's given her prenatal vitamins and iron supplements, along with a prescription to help with the vomiting and allow her to eat better."

"She needs liver," Grandma Bella asserted with a firm nod of her head. "It's the best thing for anemia."

"For once I have to agree with Bella," Grandma Mazur chimed in. "That's what we always used to give people who had it.

_Liver? Gross! _No way was I going to eat liver. "I think—"

"I think we'll need to take turns preparing meals for these two," my mother interrupted me, sharing a knowing look with Mrs. Morelli. "I'm sure you've heard that Stephanie doesn't cook." She frowned as she made the latter comment.

"Absolutely!" Mrs. Morelli agreed. "We can come up with a schedule. We'll need to research other foods rich in iron, and—"

"Hey, what about your job?" Grandma Mazur piped up again. "What's the doctor think about you chasing down skips in your condition?"

"Why, it's obvious she'll have to quit!" my mother immediately interjected. Her words were a slap to my face as I remembered the doctor's edict I give up my job—at least temporarily. It was yet one more forced change in a life that no longer felt like my own.

Observing my body language, my father barked, "Enough already, Helen! Let Stephanie finish her meal in peace."

My mother harrumphed, and my father winked at me. "I'm happy for you, Pumpkin, and for you too, Morelli. Glad to see the rumor was a false alarm." Looking around the table, he added, "Now where's dessert?"

Mrs. Morelli hopped up and went in to cut the cake she had brought, while my mother and Grandma Mazur began listing foods with iron in them.

I realized my body was trembling, and I could feel tears threatening again. It seemed like I had done nothing but cry for the past two days. I was just so damn tired, and the mothers were already taking over, and married life had been pure hell for Joe and me since our return to Trenton—and I was depressed. Picking up my fork, I attempted to eat another bite of mashed potatoes and found I couldn't do it.

Joe sensed the change in me and spoke low in my ear. "Are you feeling sick again?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. "Let me get the Zofran."

I shook my head, but a tear escaped down my cheek. "Just tired," I whispered.

Within seconds, he had me on my feet. "You need to go upstairs and lie down."

"No, I'll be alright," I protested half-heartedly. _Bed sounded so good. _"I should try to eat."

"I'll bring up a tray in a little bit," he promised. In a louder voice, he announced, "Stephanie's exhausted. She's heading up to bed."

"But she's hardly touched her dinner," my mother protested. "None of us have, except for Frank."

Joe shot my father a look.

"Finish your meal, Helen," my dad commanded. "The cab is leaving in ten minutes."

I didn't even wait to hear her response. In truth, I was halfway up the stairs before I realized I hadn't even said good-bye. I was too tired to care. Having every intention of putting on some comfortable clothes and waiting for Joe, I took one look at the bed and crawled beneath the covers instead. My head no sooner hit the pillow, and I was out.


	9. Chapter 9

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Well, that Julie (remember my fabulous Beta reader who is on vacation?) decided to be even more fabulous and read my chapter while still ON vacation. So the good news is you have a chapter a few days earlier. The bad news? This is it. LOL No two chapters for me. This one was hard enough.

Thank you, dear Julie, for being the best at understanding these two characters. Once again, it wouldn't have gotten written without you!

I don't know how any of you all argue with your spouse, but when my spouse and I have a major issue, the argument comes and goes. One minute we can be fine, then an hour or a day later something causes a relapse, until the situation finally gets resolved, and we work through our feelings. That's how I see this situation of Joe and Stephanie's playing out. On the surface, they're getting by, but underneath there is so much emotion there. Hopefully, this chapter will ring true for some of you as well.

* * *

Chapter Nine

"Steph."

Joe's voice touched the dimmest recesses of my subconscious.

"Stephanie."

I felt his warm hand stroking the side of my face. "Come on, Cupcake. You need to wake up for a few minutes."

It felt like sandbags were attached to my eyelids as I slowly opened them to see Joe seated next to me with a tray of food on his lap. The lamp on the nightstand dimly illuminated our bedroom, giving his well past five o'clock shadow an almost swarthy look. Mmmm…it made me want to go back to sleep and dream about being ravished by Pirate Joe, but instead I valiantly made the effort to stay awake.

"Hey sleepyhead," he smiled. "Think you can sit up long enough to eat something?"

"What time is it?" my voice sounded hoarse.

"A little after nine. I thought about letting you sleep until morning, but the instructions for the Zofran said to take one pill in the morning and one in the evening. I figured it would help you tomorrow if you took one yet tonight."

He waited for me to slowly push myself up into a sitting position before handing me the tray. "It's leftovers, minus the chicken. Might as well not tempt fate until the Zofran has a chance to kick in. Mashed potatoes may be a step up from donuts, but I imagine Baby Morelli might like something even more substantial before calling it a night." He winked at me and added, "If you're a good girl and finish your plate, maybe I'll even give you a slice of the cake my mother brought."

My brain was still fuzzy from its sleep-induced fog, and I responded without thinking, "You need to stop calling it Baby Morelli."

Joe's face, which had been open and caring only moments ago, instantly became shuttered.

_Shit._

"What? Are _you_ questioning my virility now too?" he asked in a low, defensive tone.

He stood and purposefully moved to stand on the other side of the bed. "Or maybe you know something about the paternity I don't." He crossed his arms and turned toward the window. "It wouldn't be the first time you've withheld the truth."

_Ouch. _I'd definitely hit a nerve.

"Okay, stop. That's not what I meant, so don't start putting words in my mouth." While I regretted my impulsive remark, I was too tired and too unsettled myself to deal with another major battle.

His back was still toward me. "Fine, what _did_ you mean then?" he asked curtly.

Too late—evidently the battle had already begun.

Picking up a fork, I toyed with the green beans on my plate and responded tentatively. "I worry you're setting yourself up for heartache by insisting the baby is yours all the time."

My voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm praying it's yours, Joe—more than I've ever prayed for anything in my life. I want it to be Baby Morelli even more than you do. But what if it's not?"

"It is," Joe said flatly.

"Joe—"

He finally turned to face me, and my heart skipped a beat from the intensity radiating from his nearly black eyes.

"Weren't you listening to what I told Manoso at the doctor's office? What's part of you is part of me, regardless of whether I provided the sperm or not."

"How can you say that?" I questioned, upset he wouldn't listen to reason.

"Say what?"

"What you just said! Don't you see? It wouldn't be part of you. Every time you'd look at this baby or me you'd remember what I'd stolen from you—the right to be the father of my child. You _think_ you'd be okay with it now, but you really wouldn't. You said so yourself at lunch."

"I said no such thing."

"Yes you did! You said you weren't sure if you could handle it if we were forced to deal with Ranger for the next eighteen plus years."

"I was talking about _Ranger_, Steph—not an innocent child," Joe spelled out through gritted teeth.

"Maybe—but you're already distancing yourself physically from me," I noted miserably. "We haven't had sex in three days. I don't think you can stand the thought of being with me, knowing this baby might not be yours."

The anger in Joe's eyes gave way to something else—equally as intense. Raking his gaze over my body, he said roughly, "I know exactly how long it's been since we last made love, Cupcake—what we did—what we said—how it felt. I can give you a play-by-play account of _every _sexual experience we've had in the last ten days. I've only relived it in my fucking head a thousand times since yesterday."

My face burned beneath the heat of his stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Thinking about last week is the only thing that's keeping me going right now. I have to believe you meant your vows and everything else you said to me on our honeymoon. I have to believe the physical love we shared meant something to you. I'd go crazy if I didn't, because it would mean everything about our relationship is a lie. And I refuse to believe _that_."

"I did mean it! I still do—"

Joe forged ahead as if I hadn't spoken. "Do you remember what I told you on our wedding night right before I finally slid inside your body for the first time?"

Immediately my mind went back to that moment when our skin was slick with oil and perspiration—our bodies frantic to join in the ultimate dance of love.

_"I'm not going to take you," he said in a low, insistent and guttural voice. "I'm going to love you. Do you understand the difference, Stephanie? This isn't merely sex ever again. It's no longer you and me—it's us. I've waited forever for this moment, and I need to know you want to belong to me just as much as I want to belong to you."_

_"I do," I breathed. Tears were escaping, rolling down the sides of my face. The tip of his cock was poised right at my opening. I was absolutely desperate to have him fill me. "Please, Joe."_

_"Say it."_

_"Say what?"_

_"Say you belong to me."_

_My arms and legs were wrapped around his body, clinging to him. Looking directly into his eyes, I gave him what he needed. "I'm Stephanie Morelli, and I belong to you."_

_"And I belong to you," he vowed, pushing his way completely inside me in one long, smooth motion._

My face flushed even darker as I remembered how it had felt to finally merge or bodies and souls together. "I remember."

"And do you remember when we started out that night—when I placed your own hands on your body and you balked at the idea?"

"Yes," I said softly, my body aching now at the memory of both our hands pleasuring me together.

"What did I say?" Joe persisted. He was still standing by the window with his arms crossed, almost as if he were protecting himself from me.

My voice hitched. "You told me there was nothing I couldn't do with you—be with you. You said we were one body now."

"Exactly," he closed his eyes briefly, as if the memory caused him pain. When he opened them again, he unfolded his arms and stepped deliberately toward the bed. "Don't_tell _me I can't accept this baby if it's not mine, Stephanie. If it's part of you, it's part of me. We're one body now."

I searched his eyes to see if he was lying to me—intentionally or otherwise. "You're certain you can love this baby if it's Ranger's?"

His gaze never wavered. "There's not a single doubt in my mind. Seeing you put your hand on top of your stomach at the doctor's office this afternoon—watching you acknowledge this child for the first time—was nothing short of profound. You and the baby belong to me. Manoso can go to hell for all I care."

A single tear slid down my cheek. "Then why is everything still so unsettled between us? One minute you're caring and affectionate toward me, and the next minute distant and remote. Why won't you make love to me?"

Joe finally relented and sat down on the bed next to me. "For the very reasons we just said. It's not about sex anymore, Stephanie. Hell, if I only wanted to get off, I'd be on top of you right now." He turned his head and looked at the wall, adding in a bitter voice, "And wouldn't that be a fitting attitude for a Morelli male—not giving a shit about anyone else but himself?"

I reached out and grabbed his hand. "You are _not _like your brothers, Joe."

"No, I'm not," he agreed dully.

He took a moment to consider his next words. Turning back toward me, he laced our fingers together and continued in that same passionate voice, "Cupcake, believe me when I tell you it doesn't matter whose baby is inside of you. I'd make love to you twenty-four hours a day if I could."

"Then why—"

"But being with you is more than just physical now—at least for me. When I'm inside of you, it's like I'm connecting with the other half of me—both physically _and _mentally." He motioned his hand between us. "What happened yesterday broke the trust we've worked so hard to build over the past five weeks, especially during the honeymoon. You really hurt me, Steph—more than you seem to understand. I don't feel connected to you right now."

Seeing the devastated look on my face, he hastened to add, "I'm not saying that feeling is gone forever. God, don't you think I'm trying like hell to move past how I feel so we can get back to where we were? It's fucking consumed my every thought since you came clean with me yesterday about Ranger and the baby. There are moments when I forget, and that's when I kiss you or touch you. Then we see Manoso or talk about him, and I'm suddenly filled with that horrible sense of betrayal all over again."

"Aargh! I'm so confused," I growled in a huff, releasing his hand to continue shoveling tasteless food down my throat.

As far as I was concerned, all of our problems boiled down to the fact I'd slept with Ranger—period. While Joe had said he'd forgiven me before the wedding, I didn't believe he'd truly gotten past his jealousy that I'd been with another man—especially now that he knew I'd spent Vordo week alternately sleeping with both Ranger and him.

The longer we sat there the more agitated I became. Even though I'd told Joe I would be patient, I was tired of being forced to wonder what the heck was going on inside his head. Finally giving in to the frustration, I asked him pointblank. "Do you think you're ever going to be able to completely forgive me for sleeping with Ranger?"

Joe shook his head wearily, almost as if he were disappointed in me. "What's going on between us is more than just the fact you slept with Ranger." He moved to stand up. "Come on, it's late. Let's drop this for now and get—"

"Of course it's about Ranger!" I snapped, ignoring him completely and grabbing his arm in an attempt to keep him from getting up. Evidently pregnancy hormones were at work, because there was no other explanation as to why I seemed so hell bent on picking at him like this. "_All_ of our problems go back to the fact I slept with him."

"No—they don't. The problem is you _continued _to sleep with him—apparently with both of us at the same time for Christ's sake—and didn't bother to TELL me what the hell was going on. Now can we _please_ drop this and go to bed?" I could hear the irritation building in his voice.

Like a fool I persisted. "You can't just make a statement like that and then say 'let's go to bed'."

"Jesus, what do you want from me?" Joe suddenly exploded, flinging my hand away and jumping up from the bed. "Do you _really _want me tell you how I feel? Should I actually go into detail for you about how repulsed I am at the idea you were willing to spread your legs for both of us on four separate occasions in seven days? Because I_really _don't think you do."

My persistence had worked. _Stupid girl. _The lion had been unleashed in Joe, and he began to pace the room.

"It makes me fucking sick to my stomach to think you were playing me against him—"

"It wasn't like that," I protested with a frown. "I wasn't going back and forth between you. I slept with you first those two times, and then—" Seeing his expression, I stopped.

_Shit—too much information, Stephanie! _Why couldn't I ever just keep my mouth shut?

Joe stopped pacing to look at me incredulously. "Do you seriously think I want to hear the details? Give me a fucking break! What did you do—take notes on each encounter and draw up a comparison sheet?"

A sliver of panic raced through me. "NO! No—it wasn't like that at all. You see, I was so confused, and Lula suggested—"

He sliced his hand through the air in frustration. "Oh for God's sake, Stephanie—ENOUGH! First it was my grandmother and this ridiculous notion of Vordo week. Now you're going to try and blame Lula—the same Lula you used to try and pin your pregnancy upon. I don't want to hear any more of your goddamned excuses or your lies! You _wanted_to sleep with both of us that week. For three years you've danced between the two of us. Despite the betrayal you suffered in your own marriage to Dickhead, you were still willing to play with fire."

"I know, but part of the time was when we agreed to see other people," I threw out desperately. Against my better judgment, my head was still fighting to excuse my actions, even though my heart knew it was all merely semantics. There was never a time I allowed Ranger to do something when I hadn't felt some form of guilt afterward.

He tossed his hands up in the air and glared at me accusingly. "I don't give a flying fuck whether our relationship was on—off—open—closed—whatever! After everything we've been through together, I deserved better from you, goddamn it. If _I'd_ wanted to explore a relationship with any another woman, I would have told you—especially if it were Terri or Joyce. You damn well know that, Stephanie. And if I hadn't told you, do you think I'd be standing in front of you still in possession of a set of nuts? Hell no! You would have fucking castrated me, and then more than likely killed the other woman!"

Sadly, he was right. I would have done both of those things—especially if it had been Terri or Joyce. They were the closest equivalent I could think of to Ranger in terms of my jealousy factor.

"All you had to do was tell me you were confused—that you needed space—that you were turned on by Manoso and wanted to explore that desire—hell, whatever the fuck it was that made you want to sleep with him. I wouldn't have been happy, but at least I would have known the truth. At least I would have had some knowledge of what was happening in _my_ life."

"If I'd told you I had feelings for Ranger, you honestly believe you would have willingly let me explore them? Please!" I rolled my eyes in scorn.

"Hell no! But if you say we weren't in a committed relationship, I wouldn't have had a choice now, would I?" He answered mockingly. "At least I would have had the chance to walk away if I wanted. Did you ever stop to think how _I _might have felt about what you were doing all these years? Did you ever even consider me or _care?_"

Swallowing hard, I tried to remain calm. "I did. I felt guilty, Joe—especially during Vordo week."

"Evidently not _too _guilty!" he pointed out angrily. "Because it certainly didn't stop you!"

He shook his head disbelievingly. "I told you after Hawaii I knew about your relationship with Manoso. My mistake was in thinking it only happened when you and I were broken up. That was hard enough to accept and forgive, when I was so fucking in love with you, but to find out you had so little respect for me that you'd string us both along at the same time—"

"It wasn't like that!" I denied in exasperation. He had me floundering to explain. "You keep making it sound like I was moving back and forth between both your beds for years. It only happened that _one _week. Well, and once more after Hawaii."

I stopped short and winced as Joe's eyes flashed fire again. "But the other times I slept with him _were_ when we were on a break. And everything else was just kissing and touching—"

"Oh my God, Stephanie, would you please STOP! One year—one week—one _day_—it doesn't matter! I had a right to know the truth EVERY SINGLE TIME."

His voice dropped to an anguished whisper. "_That's_ what's eating me up inside, Steph. You snuck around, telling me half-truths and outright lies—not valuing what we had enough to talk with me about your feelings. But what burns me more than anything is the fact that Manoso was fully aware from the beginning of what was going on—about our relationship; about whatever the hell it is you had going with him—about _everything_. Meanwhile, I was left in the dark, floundering around looking for fucking clues as to what was really going on with the two of you. Shit, half the time trying to figure out what was going on with _us_!"

He continued heatedly. "When I confronted you about Ranger before the Kennard Case, you should have said something to me. But, by God, you should have at least been completely honest with me before we got married. I told _you_ that night we laid on the beach before the wedding how important truth was to me."

Closing my eyes, I remembered every word of that conversation. We'd been talking about what we needed from one another as husband and wife.

"_The most important thing you need to know about me though, Cupcake, is that I can deal with anything—forgive anything—as long as I know the truth. Truth defines life for me—does that make sense?"_

_Not really. I wasn't quite certain what he was trying to get me to understand. I didn't like the involuntary shiver that ran through my body at the intensity of his voice. There were still things I hadn't completely shared with Joe, including the extent of what my relationship had been with Ranger. Should I tell him about some of the choices I'd made? I didn't want to spoil the beauty of this moment with the chance that we'd argue or I'd hurt him. Unsure of how to respond, I simply nodded. "I'll do my best._

"Why didn't you tell me about your fucking Vordo week then?" Joe brought me back to the present with his resentful tone.

"I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to hurt you, and I was terrified you wouldn't go through with the wedding if I did tell you." The words tumbled out of my mouth in my haste to justify myself. I could see they were falling on deaf ears. "Then everyone arrived, and you'd gone to so much trouble by bringing my family to me. I was scared."

"You see? Once again you purposefully chose to leave me in the dark."

He looked me dead in the eye, and his next words reached down to grab my very soul.

"I HATE being left in the dark, Stephanie—about _anything_. I've spent my entire life being kept in the dark by the people closest to me. You have no idea how fucking angry it makes me!"

It was like a slap to my brain. Hadn't I just realized that very afternoon Joe had been starving for truth all his life?

"I hate deceitfulness and outright lies and keeping people wondering what the hell is going on all the time. And yes, I know I've done it to you in the past. I've despised having to keep information from you over the years, but I'm bound by an oath. It's the one thing I dislike about being a cop."

"Why _did_ you become a cop?" I asked out of the blue, suddenly realizing in all the years we'd been together, I'd never asked the question.

Joe was still riding his emotion-filled outburst and was completely stunned by the question.

"I—Hell, I don't know. I've never really given it much thought. Probably because I'd done some intelligence work when I was in the Navy; so going into law enforcement seemed a natural fit," he answered begrudgingly.

After a pause, his voice became more reflective. "Man, I hated being a street cop. Those first couple of years until I made detective were rough."

"Why's that?" It felt good to ease back to a simple conversation, if even for a moment, after the hell of the past ten minutes.

"The _only _thing I did was to enforce laws. I couldn't wait to be the one to actually sift through clues and discover the answers. To discover the—" he paused uncomfortably as he came to the same realization I had only moments ago, "truth." Clearing his throat he repeated. "To discover the truth."

"Being a detective allows you to seek out justice for other people, doesn't it?" I observed. "No wonder you were so angry with the TPD after the Kennard Case. Not only had you been framed for the second time, but also once again you were left in the dark about your job. No one was telling you the truth—before, during and after the case—not to mention the whole issue of the reward money. You were looking for your own justice."

"I never thought of it that way," he admitted with a bemused expression.

Everything was becoming crystal clear—at least in my mind. What was happening between the two of us wasn't simply a matter of Joe feeling jealous or angry over the extent of my physical relationship with Ranger. It wasn't even about the baby and whether Ranger might be the father.

It was about my husband feeling betrayed because he'd put his trust in me to be the one person he could count on for truth—to be a harbor for him in the midst of the ugliness of his job and to somehow be the one to redeem him from the hell he'd endured as a child, when he'd been told nothing but lies and kept in the dark.

We were both silent for several long moments.

"I think I'm finally beginning to understand what you're feeling," I spoke after awhile. "Knowing and having truth is essential to you, isn't it?"

He nodded somewhat dazedly. "I guess I never realized how much until this all happened."

He looked at me more closely. "Steph, when I forgave you about Ranger and gave you my trust before the wedding, I meant every word of it. What's happening now is because of the fact you weren't completely honest with me. I feel like I've been blindsided after the best week of my life. I can't seem to get past the fact you didn't trust me with the whole truth."

"I know," I affirmed sadly. "Your trusting me was the most priceless wedding gift you gave me. I thought I knew it then, but I _really _understand it now. If only I had returned that gift in full by telling you about Ranger a long time ago."

I could tell Joe was only half-listening to me. He was still mentally thirty years in the past.

"You have no idea what it was like to grow up in a family that kept nothing but secrets, Steph," he murmured.

"No, I don't," I agreed, also in a much more subdued voice. Hesitantly, I continued, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He allowed a small smile for the first time since I first awakened. "Maybe someday, but it's too much for tonight, especially after all this." He motioned his hand between us. "It's hard to talk about, and too much of it I don't even really understand."

It was rapidly becoming apparent that even as an adult, Joe continued to fight the horrors of his childhood when everyone who'd mattered to him had purposefully kept him from knowing the secrets of the Morelli family. About the tortures inflicted upon his brothers, and the abhorrent sexual atrocities endured by his sisters—both at the hands of his own father. He didn't even know about the sexual abuse of his sisters yet, and I shuddered at what that particular knowledge would do to him.

I knew I needed to tell him about my conversation with Angelina, but now—when things had already been so rough—was not the time.

Suddenly true understanding about our own relationship fell down on me like rain.

On the surface, what Joe was asking for was so simple—tell him the truth and be the harbor he so desperately needed in the midst of all the ugly untruths in his life. And yet what he wanted was probably the hardest thing I've ever been asked to give. I'd spent so much of my life keeping secrets, telling half-truths and outright lies—believing it easier than having to deal with people's criticism or unwanted expectations. It had started with my mother in typical teenage rebellion but had lasted into adulthood, becoming a self-defense mechanism of sorts. God, how many times today alone had I been forced to make the choice to tell the truth, and how difficult had it been to do so?

How sad.

It had to stop—all of it. I wanted back the trust Joe had offered me so willingly before we were married. If he'd give me another chance, I'd treasure that trust like the priceless gift it was. I'd tell him the truth every time. He deserved nothing less, and neither did I from him. Honesty needed to become the cornerstone of our marriage if we had any chance of making it over the long haul.

Joe blew out a breath of exhaustion and said in a gentler tone, "Seems like once again I owe you an apology, Cupcake. My Italian temper kicked in and got the best of me just now. I'm sorry for blasting you like that."

I immediately started shaking my head. Hastily setting the tray with its now-empty plate aside, I turned back toward him and held out my hand.

"Please, Joe," I pleaded softly. "Please come sit back down here next to me."

At first I thought he'd refuse, but after a moment's hesitation, he eased himself down onto the bed.

I reached out and cupped his rough jaw line with an unsteady hand.

"Please don't apologize to me," I began in the same low, earnest voice. "I pushed and pushed at you tonight, because I'm impatient by nature. I wanted you to forgive and forget as if I'd forgotten to buy the damned bread instead of having forgotten to honor you with the truth."

"Steph—"

"Let me talk now—just for a minute. Please?" Seeing his nod, my hand began to caress his scratchy, evening beard. "I refuse to apologize for pushing you, however, because I really needed to hear what you just shared with me. _I_ needed to hear the truth."

Joe winced at my use of the word, but didn't try to move away.

"I know I destroyed your trust in me. You're right; I could have told you about Vordo week prior to the wedding. I willingly chose not to. There's no doubt I was thinking about myself first rather than thinking about how my actions would affect _us_."

Joe reached up and covered my hand with his own. "I'm not looking for you to feel guilty, Steph. Just because I'm struggling right now doesn't mean we're doomed to be like this for the next fifty years. It's not—not by a long shot."

"But I finally understand how deeply my choices have hurt you," I insisted. "I don't expect you to believe this, but it _is_ the truth. I've learned my lesson, and I won't ever lie or withhold information from you again."

Surprisingly, he leaned in and briefly touched his lips to mine. "A lot of people would probably call me a fool, but I believe you. Like I said earlier, there's no way we could have experienced what we did together last week for there not to be a bond between us worth fighting for. I'm fighting for us, Stephanie."

Those doggone tears started falling again. "I'm sorry." I swiped at them. "I can't seem to stop crying lately. I don't want you to think I'm using tears as—"

"Shh…" Joe kissed the palm of my hand and then brought it down to rest upon my abdomen. "It's hormones. You can't help it." He gave me a full-on grin. "I think by the time the baby is born, I'll be used to your tears."

I took a risk. "You mean when Baby Morelli is born?"

His eyes widened a fraction and then darkened to the liquid chocolate I knew and loved so well.

"Yeah," he responded in a raspy voice. "When Baby Morelli is born."

I couldn't hold back any longer. "I love you so much, Joe. Please forgive me for whatever pain I've caused you."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm working on it. I know I love you enough to forgive you, even if I'm not quite there yet. And I know it's hard for you to be patient, but I need for you to try. I have so much else to deal with right now beyond this—"

"I know. Tony—"

"Fuck, I don't even want to think about _him _tonight." Joe closed his eyes in a grimace. "It scares me to death wondering what he and Paulie might be up to right now."

"And there's your job—and—" I hesitated briefly, "well there are some other things I need to share with you too." I paused again, afraid to proceed. "Things I learned from Angelina about your family."

Joe flinched almost imperceptibly, but his voice remained neutral. "Let's save all of it for another day, alright? I need to update you on Tony as well, but I'm absolutely beat right now, Steph."

"I know you are. I am too." I quickly wiped away my tears and moved to climb carefully out of the bed—unsure of how my stomach would react. "I'm going down to get some of that cake and get washed up first. Go ahead and go to sleep without me."

"I'll get the cake," he offered, putting his hand out to stop my forward progress.

I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm fine. Go to bed, Joe. I'll be right back, I promise."

He took our enjoined fingers and brought them to his lips, placing a kiss there and looking sensuously into my eyes. _Oh God, I loved that look more than any other—the look of absolute love._

"Tonight helped a lot, Stephanie. I shouldn't have held my feelings in like that and tried to fix everything myself. Instead of talking with you, I blew up like a bomb, and I'm sorry. Please forgive me too, okay?"

I looked at him like he was crazy. "There's nothing to forgive, but if it will make you feel better—fine, you're forgiven."

"I _do _desire you, Cupcake. I want to connect with you again in the worst way."

_Hoo Boy! _"Me too," I squeaked. It took everything in me not to pounce on him like a mouse on cheese.

"I'm just not ready. This is all still too raw. You know what I mean?"

He was right, and I reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"We have a lot to talk about yet, including what we're going to do about Manoso and this paternity deal—"

"It's okay." My conscience reminded me I needed to tell him about my plan to talk with Ranger privately, but again—now definitely wasn't the right time.

"I _know_ it's okay, but I don't want you thinking I'm turned off by you." He gave me a rather comical attempt at a leer. I'm not known for turning down sex—especially with you. I don't want you to think I'm losing my touch."

"You could live to be a hundred and not lose your touch, Morelli," I quipped dryly. "Now out of my way. I ate all my food, and I want cake."

He reluctantly acquiesced, and when I returned ten minutes later, he was sound asleep. I stood there for a moment admiring his beautiful body. I missed touching it—kissing it—loving it. I vowed to find a way soon to show him physically how much I loved him. But for now I needed to concentrate on being that harbor he craved and showing him the patience he'd asked for. Perhaps then he would see I was indeed worthy of his trust.

A sense of true peace swept through me for the first time since discovering I was pregnant. One way or another I would make certain my marriage got back to where it was a week ago.

Quickly shedding my clothes, I crawled in naked beside him, smiling when he instinctively moved in sleep to spoon his warm body around me against the chill of the room. And just as he had the night before, he slid his hand across my stomach to protectively cradle my baby—our baby.

Baby Morelli.


	10. Chapter 10

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Surprise! Surprise! Two chapters in five days. :-) Hope this gets your weekend off to a happy start.

As always, thanks to Julie (my fabulous Beta reader who is BACK from vacation!) for taking the time to read this for me. Welcome home!

* * *

Chapter Ten

After the rain and gloom of Monday, it was a relief to awaken Tuesday morning to clear skies—both literally and figuratively. Turning my head slowly, I noted it was already after seven, and yet I felt as though I could go back to sleep for another twelve hours. Ugh. Any other day, I would have been happy to give in and throw the covers back over my head, but I had a full schedule awaiting me, and no time to feel sluggish or sick.

Slowly pushing myself into a seated position, I waited for the nausea to kick in. Yep, there it was, flirting in the back of my throat and stomach. Great.

I had just pulled back the covers to get up and find the Zofran when a fully clothed Joe walked into the room and about dropped the tray he was carrying. Glancing down, I remembered I'd gotten into bed naked the night before and quickly moved to pull the sheet back over me.

"No, wait," he said in a hoarse whisper, moving closer to the bed. Placing the tray on the floor, he sat down carefully next to me, absolutely transfixed by the sight of my breasts. I had to admit they were looking pretty darn good these days—to the point where I was going to need new bras soon. Score one positive thing about pregnancy! And evidently Joe had just discovered what he'd been missing the past few days since they'd definitely grown bigger over the weekend.

He reached out to cup the weight of one of them in the palm of his hand, gently rubbing his thumb across my nipple. My eyes closed instinctively at the pleasure, and I couldn't stop a soft moan from escaping my lips.

"Don't be mean," I chided lightly, still groggy from sleep. "It's not nice to tease me after you said you weren't ready last night."

"Sorry," Joe responded, not sounding sorry at all. Leaning forward, he replaced his thumb with his tongue and used it to trace a sensuous circle around the hardened nub. Looking up at me with those irresistible brown eyes of his, he said in a voice that sounded almost mesmerized, "Cupcake, you were gorgeous to begin with, but now with the pregnancy—God—you're just over the top sexy. I woke up this morning with you in my arms like this and had to literally drag my ass out of bed. How am I supposed to survive the next seven months? I'll be dead from sexual overdose."

_Not if we don't ever get busy and actually HAVE sex again!_

Perhaps I was still feeling a little hormonal and A LOT impatient, but if enlarged boobs were going to help my cause to get Joe to forgive me and return our relationship back to honeymoon status, I'd find a way to put those puppies in front of his face at every possible opportunity!

Running my fingers through his hair, I urged his head upward. To my surprise he responded by placing wet, open-mouthed kisses across my chest and up my neck. Continuing along the jaw line, his lips zeroed in on my mouth with a focused intensity. For whatever reason, he was treating me to an all-out Joe assault this morning, and I wasn't about to complain. At least my still fuzzy head wasn't. My stomach on the other hand had other ideas.

"Mmmm… you taste good." He was nibbling on my lips and moving his hand further south. "You see?" he murmured. "Right now I'm having a real hard time remembering why the heck I'm supposed to be mad at you. You drive me crazy, Stephanie."

I smiled invitingly and angled my head, so that he could deepen the kiss. One minute everything was feeling great, and I was rejoicing over the progress we'd made in such a short period of time, when the next found me frantically pushing at Joe's shoulders in panic.

"Joe—"

I must have sounded sufficiently urgent, because he moved at lightening speed to grab the wastebasket just in time. This time he stayed with me, once again holding my hair back and whispering words of comfort.

When I was finished, he trooped out of the room to take care of the wastebasket, while I managed to get up and brush my teeth. I'd just climbed back into bed when he returned with a wet washcloth and a concerned face.

"You okay?" he asked, sitting back down gingerly beside me and sliding the covers gently over my bare skin.

"No. I'm friggin' pissed," I groaned miserably, slapping the washcloth over my eyes. I added on a whine, "I ruined the moment!"

Joe lifted the cloth back up, and I could see one corner of his mouth curled predictably. "You didn't ruin anything. I wouldn't have been able to follow through this morning anyway." Seeing my face fall again, he held up his hand. "I have an early meeting with my team in twenty minutes."

I was still disappointed, and it showed. "If you weren't going to follow through, then what the hell were you doing?" I pouted. "It's not nice to tease a hormonal person."

Joe actually laughed and leaned in again to brush a soft kiss across my lips. "Probably not. Maybe it's my own form of self-torture—I don't know. But I _do _know, I meant every word I said. You're beautiful, Stephanie. I don't care how upset I've been with you, I'm not going to be able to resist you much longer."

"Well, then quit trying!" I was still feeling sulky.

"Working on it," Joe nodded seriously. "Every day feels a little bit better. As painful as last night was, talking helped a lot. Seeing you smile might help even more." He reached out and tickled the sensitive skin behind my ear.

I gave him an elbow to the stomach along with a half-hearted smile. "Go away, Morelli."

He grinned. "I'm not going anywhere—at least not permanently, although I _do _need to get to work.

Suddenly his face turned earnest. "We have to get serious about this Zofran and your eating today. I think after a couple more pills, you should see a difference in the nausea—at least that's what the directions said. I brought up some Cheerios, along with a bagel and some fruit." Reaching toward the floor, he brought the tray back up with him.

"I don't suppose the bagel has Boston Crème cheese on it, does it?" I asked hopefully—not that anything sounded good to my system quite yet.

"Nice try." Joe laid the tray across my lap, giving my forehead a kiss. "I can't stay to force it down you either, so I'm trusting you're going to give eating all of it a solid effort."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're trusting me?"

He raised _his_ eyebrow in response. "Well, we have to start somewhere, don't we?"

Noticing the time, he winced. "Shit, I'm going to be late. Bob's all set so don't worry about him. You'll call the DDC this morning about the blood test, right?"

I nodded my head and allowed the Zofran to dissolve in my mouth, swallowing it with a large glass of water. "I'll call when I have the details."

"Better text me. I'm wrapped up in interviews again for most of the day. Hopefully this is the last of them. I need tomorrow to get through the mountain of paperwork on my desk before I'm in court Thursday and Friday."

"That's right—for the officers that were part of the Kennard Case. I forgot."

"Yeah. I'm hoping like hell that next week I can actually get back on the street. I haven't worked a case in more than a month now. I'm restless."

"I'm going to be restless too," I returned glumly, toying with my bowl of cereal. When Joe gave me an odd look, I responded, "I have to quit my job, remember?"

He grimaced. "I'm sorry, Steph. But the doctor didn't say you have to give up working all together—just bounty hunting—and then only until the baby is born. Maybe Vinnie can have you and Lula swap jobs for a while."

"Filing?" I scorned. "Gee, thanks."

He shrugged. "I'm only trying to offer you options." Pretending to look thoughtful, he cupped his chin in his hand. "Although I did hear they were hiring at the button factory, so maybe you'd rather—"

"Har. Har, Helen," I tried to frown at him, but couldn't quite conceal my own smile.

"What _are_ you going to tell them at the office?" he tried to sound casual.

"I don't really know. Any suggestions?"

"It's your call, but I think you might as well just tell them you're pregnant. They're going to figure it out soon enough as it is. Truthfully, I'm not sure why we told our family to keep it quiet either. I mean, we don't need to advertise the paternity deal, but it's okay for people to know you're having a baby, isn't it?"

"I guess." I wasn't too enthused about the idea, or maybe it was that I still wasn't too enthused about being pregnant in the first place. "Will I see you for dinner?"

"Doubtful," he confessed. "It depends on how late these interviews run. I need to try and track down Tony and Paul again too. I'm scared to death Tony's going to miss his preliminary hearing, which has been scheduled for next Monday."

"I didn't know that."

"I know. We haven't had time to talk about any of the normal "awful" things in our life."

"You haven't heard anything from either brother yet?"

"Nada," Joe shook his head. "And I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing."

"Maybe I could run by and see Adrienne if I have time," I offered. "She might be more willing to talk than Angelina was."

"Jeez, we still need to have that conversation too," Joe grumbled, referring to my visit yesterday with his sister-in-law. "This is ridiculous. We need to schedule an appointment with one another just to catch up."

His face turned serious. "As for Adrienne—only go if you feel up to it, okay?" he cautioned. "This Zofran is going to make you even more tired than you normally would be pregnant. Promise me you'll be careful driving and try to sleep when you can."

"Yes, Mother. Where are my truck keys?"

"I'll take your truck again," he offered. "That's another thing on my list—to see about trading it in. But for now, I'm late—got to go. I love you."

"I love you too. Call me when you can about dinner." I was hoping dinner would entail take-out, but I had a feeling my days of take-out were going to be severely diminished for a while.

"I will. Don't forget there are about five million casseroles in the freezer from when the widows were here week before last."

My eyes lit up. _Yes! _I'd forgotten about all the food they'd brought with Mrs. Comensoli that day. Even I could handle defrost and bake, right? "I'll see what I can manage."

Joe made no move to leave despite the fact he was really running late now.

"I don't want to go," he confessed, toying with one of my curls. "Right this second everything feels normal and good for the first time since Barbados."

Another smile burst from my lips, as I reached up to remove his hand. "I don't want you to go either, but one of us had better keep a job, or we're in trouble."

"Not if we go back to Barbados and sell those seashells by the seashore," he suggested tantalizingly. The way he was staring at me, I was starting to think he was serious.

_Barbados._

It took effort, but I finally shook myself from the memory. "Go to work, Morelli."

Letting out a breath, he nodded once. "Right. See you later, Cupcake."

"Count on it," I promised, admiring the view as he walked out the bedroom doorway.

Just as it had the day before, it took me a long time to eat, shower and get ready so as not to upset my stomach again. By the time I made it down to the kitchen with the dirty dishes, it was well past nine. Vinnie was probably already having a cow I wasn't at the office—unless they'd all decided to take another day off. Grabbing my cell phone, I quickly dialed Connie.

"The honeymoon's over. Where are you?" she asked testily by way of greeting. "Vinnie's about ready to blow a gasket here, Steph, and I don't want to run interference for you anymore."

"I'll be in soon," I promised. "Tell Vinnie not to go anywhere though, because I need to talk with him."

"Why? What's wrong?" Connie immediately sensed trouble and lowered her voice.

Trying to sound positive, I replied, "Nothing's wrong. Is Lula there yet?"

"She was. When you didn't show, she went to grab breakfast for all of us. Want me to call and tell her to bring you a sausage biscuit?"

My stomach rolled in response. "No thanks. I'm good. I'll see you in twenty."

No sooner had I disconnected than the phone rang. A quick look at Caller ID revealed it was my mother. Deciding not to make her go crazy with worry like yesterday, I answered on the second ring.

"Hey Mom."

"Stephanie! How are you feeling this morning, honey?"

"After a rough start, I'm doing better. Breakfast is staying down so far."

"Good. You certainly shocked all of us with your news last night. I'm assuming it was a surprise to you too, seeing as I've never heard you say you wanted to dive into motherhood."

_More than you know! _"It was definitely unexpected," I agreed.

"Well, Joseph looked positively over the moon about the whole thing."

_He did? _"Hmmmm," I responded noncommittally. "I was just on my way to the office, Mom. What's up?"

"The office! Stephanie, you aren't going to insist upon continuing this ridiculous lark of yours now that you're pregnant. I can't believe Jo—"

"Please stop," I interrupted quietly. "I don't want to argue with you. For once can you trust that I'm handling things," I paused and then added, "You called?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, and just like that she was off and running again. "I simply wanted to let you know that Angela and I have come up with a schedule for meals over the next several weeks. We aren't about to let our grandchild go hungry."

_Grrr! _Taking a deep breath, I said, "That's really thoughtful of both of you, but Joe and I have it covered."

"Considering you're already in this anemic condition, don't you think it's time you had a little help?" I could tell she was trying to say it in a neutral tone, but her patronization of me was still evident.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of me and my baby," I instinctively bristled. "I'm going to be doing it ever day for at least the next nineteen years. No better time to start."

"About that," she broached cautiously. "Angela and I have been discussing that too. We think it's high time we taught you how to cook."

_One…two…three…_There weren't enough numbers in the world to keep me from losing my patience soon. "That's a sweet offer as well, but I'm good for right now. Thank you though."

"Stephanie, don't be stubborn. You're a married woman now with a baby on the way. It's time—"

"It's time you start realizing I'm not going to be a housewife like you and Mrs. Morelli!" I burst in angrily. I'm ME, Mom—not either one of you. Joe is happy with _me_. He married _me_. I know you mean well, but leave _ME _alone." _Damn these godforsaken hormones!_

"You don't have to be so touchy," my mother huffed. "We're only concerned."

Drawing a deep breath, I tried again. "I know you are, and I appreciate and love you both for it. Joe and I have a lot on our plates right now, and we need time to settle into our own routine. Our version of a family might not look like what you want, but I promise you we're happy." _Or at least we will be—hopefully._

"Fine. I guess you've made your point," she said stiffly. "I'll be sure to let Angela know."

"Mom, please don't get your feelings hurt over this. I just can't handle it right now. I promise you I'm taking this pregnancy very seriously and doing everything I can to make sure our baby is healthy. Okay?"

She was silent for a moment. "Alright. But will you at least let us drop off a meal or have you over every once in awhile?"

"If it will make you feel better—sure."

"It would. I know I get on your nerves sometimes, Stephanie, but it's only because I—because I care."

My conscience panged with sufficient Catholic guilt. "I know you do, Mom. Now honestly, I really do have to run."

"Alright. Call me if you need anything. Oh—and call your sister with the news soon. She deserves to know before Mary Lou—_IF_ you haven't already told _her._"

"I will," I answered weakly.

I'd been up for less than two hours and was ready for a nap already.

Disconnecting, I began rummaging through my bag for the business card Dr. Hamilton had given us yesterday for the DNA Diagnostics Center in Trenton. Swallowing nervously, I fumbled my way through the numbers and waited impatiently.

"DNA Diagnostics Center—Christine speaking. How may I help you?"

"This is Stephanie Morelli calling. My obstetrician, Stephen Hamilton, referred me to your office." I cleared my throat and continued nervously. "Um…my husband and I, along with a man I was formerly involved with need to come in to do the blood work for an SNP microarray. I'm calling to see if we need an appointment or can we just walk in?"

Evidently the woman had heard this story a million times, because her response was brisk and business-like. "No problem. I'll take the basic information from you now. The three of you can then each come in when it's convenient for you to provide your samples."

"What do you need to know?" I asked suspiciously.

She spent the next few minutes asking me fairly routine questions, but then threw me for a loop by asking a much tougher one.

"Have you and your husband and/or Mr. Manoso retained legal counsel at this time?"

"Um, I'm not sure about Mr. Manoso, but Joe and I haven't. It's on our to-do list, I guess. Mr. Manoso _has_ indicated, however, that he plans to submit an Acknowledgment of Paternity."

"Okay, then you and Mr. Morelli will want to do retain your own attorney as soon as possible. Just so you know, in order to ensure strict chain-of-custody, all three of you will be positively identified, photographed and fingerprinted when you arrive for your blood test. Once the samples have been obtained, they will be stored in a secured facility to ensure accurate, legally defensible results."

I'd always wondered what it sounded like when a person actually gulped. I found out when I swallowed a large sum of air at her words. _Shit, this was all so friggin' scary!_

"Once the Microarray is complete, a notarized report will be sent to your attorneys and Dr. Hamilton. No results will be given over the phone, and it typically takes 3-5 business days before results are available. Usually your obstetrician will invite you back to his office to discuss the results."

"Okay," I squeaked. "Um—so we can just come by anytime today?"

"Yes, I have the basic information I need. When each of you checks in, be sure to refer to the Morelli/Manoso file, and we'll take care of it from there."

"Thanks for your help," I acknowledged. "We'll each be there at some point."

By the time I disconnected, I was sweating and about ready to puke again. Quickly turning on the faucet, I splashed cold water on my face and wrists and tried to calm down. What in the hell had I gotten all of us into? I ran a hand down my still flat belly and began to panic—about the baby's health, about the paternity test, about my ability to be a mother. I'd never been so scared in all my life, and God knows I'd had plenty of horrible things happen to me in the past three years.

I started to text Joe, then at the last minute decided to leave him a voicemail instead. "Hey, it's me. You can stop by the DDC any time today." I gave him the address. "We need to get an attorney ASAP. Do you have any contacts with Family Law? Call me when you can. I love you."

Next I needed to give Ranger the information. I was too chicken to call him though, so I ended up texting him the same information. It wasn't long before he responded.

_Ranger: I'll take care of it today. You okay?_

_Me: Fine. Tired, but keeping breakfast down. We need to talk._

_Ranger: I know. I'm confused about yesterday. I thought you knew me better. Lunch?_

I stared at his response. He made it sound as though I'd hurt him somehow. I'd been so focused on Joe and his reaction to things I hadn't really given a thought to Ranger and his feelings. God, was I responsible for his ego now too? I was definitely going to need a nap before the day was through.

My fingers hovered over the keypad. I hadn't told Joe about meeting with Ranger yet, and I wasn't about to give him cause to distrust me even further. Still, I knew Ranger wouldn't open up to his motivation for the paternity test unless Joe was absent from the picture. Growling in frustration over all the complications, I finally responded to him.

_Me: No lunch. I need space from you. What time can you do the test?_

_Ranger: Around 1 p.m. What kind of space? Call me._

_Me: Not calling. Need new boundaries._

_Ranger: WTF? You live in a prison now?_

_Me: No! This is about me—not Joe. I'll talk with you at the DDC._

_Ranger: Whatever. You've really changed._

_Me: I told you yesterday everything's changed._

_Ranger: Whatever. You quit Vinnie's yet?_

_Me: Heading there now. TTYL_

_Damn! _Flipping the phone shut, I tossed it with more force than was necessary back into my bag before picking it up and slipping it onto my shoulder. Neither Ranger nor I knew how to relate to the other any more, and I had very real fears that the stress of this paternity test was going to ruin any chance we had of salvaging a friendship—especially since we were already having difficulty creating new boundaries after all I'd allowed him to do in past three years.

Double-checking Bob's water dish, I grabbed the keys to the SUV and hustled out the door. Soon I was on Hamilton headed for the office and wondering what in the hell I should tell Vinnie and the girls.

And Mary Lou. Lord knows what would happen if she found out I told all of these people I was pregnant before her.

Blowing out another breath, I located my phone again and dialed the familiar number.

"Morning, Mrs. Morelli. Off to slay some slippery skip butt?"

"I swear I must be the only person who understands you," I replied, shaking my head to myself.

"You and my hairdresser," Mary Lou retorted smartly. "So have you come down from cloud nine yet?"

This was my chance. I broached the subject casually. "Actually, I'm moving into an even higher stratosphere."

"Oh? Do tell."

"I'm pregnant, Mare."

Silence.

"Shut up. You are not."

"_Hunh!_ Ten pee sticks say you're wrong."

"Oh. My. God."

Silence.

"Omigod!" she screamed in my ear. "This is frickin' unbelievable! Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

Silence.

"You think it would be possible for you to have any less enthusiasm?" she asked dryly.

"Sorry. It's just complicated."

"Well of course it is!" she exclaimed. "We are talking about you and Morelli here, right? _Everything _is complicated with you two. What's the problem now?"

If anyone could help me navigate through my current misery it was my best friend. I decided to go for broke—but only with her.

"So you remember how I swore you to secrecy about the elopement?"

"Yeah," she drawled. "So what? You don't want me to say anything about the baby?"

"That's not it, but I do need you to swear you won't reveal what I'm about to say. Not a word to anyone, Mare—not even to Lenny, okay?"

"You know you can trust me, Steph. What's wrong?"

I took a deep breath and confessed. "There's a fifty-fifty chance this baby could be Ranger's." _There. I'd said it out loud._

An even longer silence met my ear this time. I kept waiting for her to make some sort of joke or smart remark. Instead she finally whispered, "Oh honey, I'm so sorry. I can only imagine how confused and scared you are right now."

_Oh God. _There it was. The love and support I needed desperately from someone. In an instant I was crying so hard I had to pull over onto the curb and turn off the vehicle.

"Tell me where you are right now, and I'll come."

"You—you can't," I protested through my tears. "I'm already late for work. I'm sitting on the side of the road right now."

"Alright, but tell me what's going on."

I'm not sure how much she heard as I sobbed my way through the past ten weeks, particularly the past two days, but it must have been enough to give her a good idea of the pain I was in. I told her about the paternity test and the anemia and the fights with Joe and my uncertainty regarding Ranger's motives, along with my intent to talk with him.

"And I need to tell, Joe," I sniffed, using a fast-food napkin from the SUV's console to wipe my eyes. "But I'm afraid he won't hear anything but the fact I want to be alone with Ranger."

"No, he probably won't," Mary Lou agreed somberly, "but don't let that stop you. The _only _way Morelli is ever going to trust you again is if you give him something to trust. Even if he gets spitting mad at you at first, he'll eventually come around."

"You think?" I asked hopefully. "Do you also think I'm right in thinking it's important that I talk with Ranger alone?"

"Surprisingly, I do. If you were smart, you'd be running as far away from that man as possible—at least until your marriage gets back on track. But from all I've heard, you're the only one who has ever gotten past his defenses enough to make him care. If he's going to tell anyone what his reasons for wanting to acknowledge paternity are, it's going to be you."

"That's what I think too." Holding my cell phone precariously between my shoulder and chin, I blew my nose. "Okay, I feel better—at least for now. I'm so late for work; it's not even funny. Wish me luck telling everyone I'm leaving."

"Can I be honest with you?" Mary Lou questioned.

"When have you ever _not _been honest with me?" I retorted sarcastically.

"You don't sound that disappointed about leaving."

I answered on a sigh. "It's weird. Last Friday night Joe and I were lying on the beach talking about what it would be like once we got home to our real lives. I told him I wasn't sure if I was all that wild about being a bounty hunter any longer. Somewhere during the last year the thrill has gone out of it for me, so yeah—I guess I'm not all that broken up about not having to risk my life any longer. But I _am _going to miss seeing Connie and Lula everyday. I'm sad about not having a job too. I really don't think I'm cut out to be a stay-at-home mom."

"Something else will come up," Mary Lou assured me. "You have more crazy luck than anyone I know. You snagged Joe Morelli, didn't you?"

"You bet your ass I did. And I'll do anything not to let him off the line if I can help it."

"If the look on his face the entire wedding weekend is any indication, he ain't going anywhere, sister."

I couldn't help but smile. "Once again, you've saved me from myself, Mare. Thanks."

"No sweat. It's good practice for when I start school in January."

"You're really going to be a counselor?"

"Yep. And I fully expect you to be a life-long client of mine."

"I could probably keep you busy full time with _just_ my life. Love you, Mare."

"Love you, too. Congratulations, Mom."

My breath hitched in my throat as I disconnected. Other than Joe's attempt on Sunday to call me Mommy prior to discovering about the paternity issue, it was the first time anyone had called me Mom. It struck me once again that an honest to God baby was right at that moment growing inside of me. The idea was still completely overwhelming, but not quite as unwelcome as it had been the past couple of days. In fact, when I actually allowed myself to believe it _was _a baby created by Joe and me, my heart filled with something almost akin to awe.

I had created a life.

Whoa.

Somehow it made everything else I'd ever accomplished pale in comparison. Uttering yet another prayer it was indeed a true Morelli baby, I turned the car back on and headed directly for the temporary bonds office.

By the time I pulled into a parking spot out front, it was going on eleven o'clock—well past the time I had indicated to Connie I'd be there. All three of my coworkers were probably spitting nails by now. Yep, sure enough—one peek in the window as I walked toward the door showed Lula sprawled in her usual position on the couch tapping her high-heel clad foot impatiently. Connie was furiously typing away at her computer, which was never a good sign, and Vinnie was leaning against the doorjamb to his office with his arms crossed over his chest.

Taking a fortifying breath, I opened the door and sailed into the room with as much positive energy as I could muster. "Hey," I greeted all three of them with a smile.

"_Hunh,_" was all that Lula offered.

Connie rolled her eyes at me and pointedly looked at the clock on the wall.

Vinnie showed no such subtlety. He was furious.

"Where the fuck you been, Stephanie." He pushed himself off of the doorway and sauntered toward me, arms still crossed. "I thought I made myself crystal clear the last time you were here—what—fourteen fucking days ago that I expected you here and working _yesterday._"

"You can save your self-righteous smirk, Vinnie. You and I both know the office was closed yesterday," I countered sweetly, baring my teeth. "Besides I've come in to give you my notice—effective immediately." _There, suck on that, you little weasel!_

Connie immediately stopped typing and whipped her chair around to stare at me, while Lula stopped tapping her foot long enough to say, "The hell you say!"

Vinnie glared at me. "What do you mean you're giving your notice? You can't give notice, because I'm about to fire your ass!"

"Too late," I noted dryly.

"Girlie, you ain't serious!" Lula stood up, teetering precariously on her heels. "What the hell happened? I just saw you yesterday—" Her mouth dropped open comically. "This got to do with you and Tony shacking up?"

"Don't start with me," I warned with narrowing eyes. "You know damn well none of those rumors are true."

Connie finally deigned to put her two cents in. "Is Joe making you quit, Steph? I thought you said at the wedding he was okay with you working here."

"He is," I affirmed, still staring straight into Vinnie's beady eyes. "I've found out, however, that I'm pregnant. I'm also severely anemic, and my doctor has put the kibosh on bounty hunting until after the baby is born."

It was almost worth being pregnant just to see the looks on their faces as I dropped my bombshell. All three looked at me as though I'd told them I'd given up eating junk food for the rest of my life. Wait—I _was _giving up junk food for the rest of my life—or at least it felt like it with this darn pregnancy.

"You're joking, right?" Vinnie was the first to find his voice.

"Nope. I'm ten weeks pregnant," I announced with way more bravado than I actually felt. Inside I was practically shaking from all of this truth-telling business.

"Oh, Steph," Connie breathed, a huge smile slowly crossing her face. "That's fantastic! Congratulations!" she practically flew out from behind her desk to crush me against her well-endowed chest. "I can't believe it!"

"Me neither," I agreed breathlessly.

"Well, I won't _let _you quit," Vinnie challenged, giving me the evil eye.

_Huh? _Didn't the man just say he was about to fire me?

"I won't give you the satisfaction of being able to quit," he continued irrationally. "I saved your ass three years ago when you were down and out. You owe me. You owe me the satisfaction of being able to fire you. You'll stay here and do the filing until the baby comes, and then you'll go back to bounty hunting, until I damn well say you can be done. And _then _I'll fire you!"

I looked at him like the lunatic he was. "Do you hear yourself?" I shook my head. "You're a nut job, Vinnie." Realizing the truth in some of what he was saying, however, caused me pause. In a kinder voice—or at least as close as I could get to acting kind to Vinnie—I continued, "You're right about one thing. Even though I _blackmailed _you into this job three years ago, you did give me a chance, and I appreciate it. The thing is I was already feeling restless. I'm just ready to start a new adventure."

"Oh, it'll be an adventure all right," Connie sniggered. "Parenting is one BIG-ass adventure from what I've heard." She gave Vinnie a dirty look. "You could at least congratulate your cousin, you know."

"Ah yes, my cousin," Vinnie curled his lip at me. "My dear cousin who didn't even invite me to her own goddamned wedding in Barbados when half the Burg and all of this office was invited!"

"Don't blame me," I countered, shrugging my shoulders. "I didn't even know about it."

"Whatever. Congratulations," Vinnie offered begrudgingly. "Hope you make a better mother than a bounty hunter, or else I feel damn sorry for your kid. Morelli does have good insurance, I hope?"

"I can't get on his policy with a pre-existing condition like this—"

"No, no," Vinnie waved his hand. "I'm talking about accidental insurance—you know for when you drop the kid on its head or something."

"Vinnie!" Connie reprimanded. "That's just rude! Stephanie won't drop her baby!" Her look became more reflective. "She might forget to feed it or change its diaper, but—"

"Oh for crying out loud!" I muttered.

In the midst of all this, Lula was still standing silently next to the couch looking downright nervous herself.

"Uh, Steph," she finally offered. "Can I talk to you outside?"

"Yeah, I'm finished here, anyway," I grumbled. It took every good manner drilled into me for the past thirty-three years by Helen Plum to do what I did next. Extending my hand toward Vinnie, I said, "It's been—uh—interesting, Vinnie. Thanks again for everything."

For just a moment, I thought I saw a glimpse of regret pass through his eyes, but then it was quickly masked by his usual slimy leer. "Only good thing I can see coming out of this is Morelli's going to have a field day with the fact you actually have a chest now."

Connie gasped, and I rolled my eyes, retracting my hand. "You are such a duck fuck, Vinnie. Later." Turning toward Connie, I gave her another hug. "You know my leaving means nothing, right? I'll still be around to see you all the time."

"You'd better," she sniffed. "The place won't be the same without you. Congratulations, Mrs. Morelli. Tell Joe congrats too from all of us."

Again, my heart ached from the pain I'd caused our marriage. "Will do," I managed to reply, suddenly anxious to get out of there.

I quickly headed for the door with Lula at my heels. It was weird. I'd thought I would have all kinds of mixed emotions and regret about walking away from the best job I'd ever had, but oddly enough, I only felt relief. I never realized until now just how tired I was getting of constantly being on the move, chasing after the next skip, living from paycheck to paycheck and flitting back and forth between Ranger and Joe. I was tired—and not just pregnant tired. I wanted the chance to have a normal life. Not necessarily a Burg life, but a good life with my husband just the same.

And oddly enough, my stomach felt just fine about the whole thing. In fact, it was getting downright hungry.

No sooner were we out the door, than Lula was grabbing my hand and leading me toward Joe's vehicle. "Get in, girlie," she said tensely, opening the front passenger door to heave herself up inside the SUV.

I made my way around to the driver's side and climbed in as well. "What's up?" I asked, looking at her in confusion. Lula looked downright scared.

"Ten weeks, huh?" she stared at me with her eyebrows raised.

_Shit. _I should have known. Lula didn't need a damn calendar to figure things out. I could tell she already knew my dilemma, but what surprised me was that she appeared to be feeling at least a small sense of responsibility toward it.

Deciding to follow her lead, I simply replied. "Yep. Ten weeks."

"Oh Lawd, whose baby is it?" she demanded, not a trace of her usual humor in place. People were stupid to underestimate the intelligence of this woman.

_Everything _within me wanted to brush her off or—worse yet—lie to her. Instead I shook my head and said simply, "I don't know."

It sounds silly, but Lula's face actually paled. "Steph—"

"I know. It was stupid of me," I immediately berated myself again for having played such a dangerous game with two men.

"It was the Vordo, wasn't it?" Lula whispered. "Morelli's Grandma cursed you and—"

"No!" I interrupted firmly. "_I _cursed me. I cursed myself the moment I allowed Ranger the opportunity to flirt with me that very first time three years ago."

Lula's eyes narrowed. "You can't go blaming yourself. We're talkin' about Ranger! The man is a fuckin' wizard. He only had to give you one look, and a spell was cast right over you. Frankly, I _still _don't know how you chose to resist him in the end."

"Funny, that's how I feel about Joe. How did I ever resist him all those years?" I returned seriously, and then tried to explain yet again. "Lula, I've been in love with Joe_forever_. If I hadn't been so scared of him ultimately rejecting me, I would have committed to him a long time ago. I wish to God I had."

"Oh shit!" Lula's eyes suddenly went huge. "Does Morelli know about the Vordo?"

I laughed self-deprecatingly. "Believe me, we've been _all _through what happened that week."

Lula winced. "Damn! Girlie, you should've never tried to take on both of those men at the same time. Were you stupid or what?"

My hackles immediately went up. "This coming from the woman who told me I should stop thinking so much and just go for the gusto. The same woman who _told _me to sleep with both men to determine once and for all which one was the right one for me? The same woman who also suggested I have my fill of sex and just walk away?"

"Shit, why'd you listen to me? You ain't never listened to me before!" Lula exclaimed, flapping her beefy arms. "What the fuck you think I know about relationships? I was a 'ho, thank you very much!"

I opened my mouth to argue, but figured what was the point. Lula would _never _accept her role in the decisions I made during Vordo week, and quite frankly, Joe was right. I needed to stop looking for a scapegoat, except for the one that stared back at me in the mirror each morning. If only it wasn't such a bitter pill to swallow.

"Does Ranger know?" Lula asked, wide-eyed with concern.

"Yes. We were all at the doctor's office together yesterday," I confirmed.

She shook her head at me, still dumbfounded. "Girlie, you're in a bad way. What you doing about it?"

"We're having a paternity test performed today," I explained reluctantly. "Ranger has indicated if the baby is his, he wants to be an involved father, and—"

"Bat Man wants a little Robin?" Her mouth dropped in shock. "_Hunh! _What does Morelli say about THAT?"

"Obviously nothing that's repeatable," I quipped. "Let's just say the air gets a little bluer whenever we talk about Ranger."

Lula winced in sympathy. "I can't even get up the energy to give you hell for deserting me as your partner. You got enough problems as it is."

I shifted in my seat. "Lula, listen to me. I know it's as hard for you as it is for me not to not to share a juicy bit of gossip, but I'm asking you as one of my best friends to please not say a word about this to _anyone_. Not Tank, not Connie, not Chickie Manack—_no one. _Ranger, Joe and I would all appreciate being able to navigate this situation without the entire Burg wagging their tongues about it."

For once Lula was deadly serious. "You have my word, Steph. And for what it's worth, I hope there's no question the baby is a little Morelli."

_Damn it! _There went the hormones again. "Thanks," I choked back a sob. "Me too. _And_ for what it's worth to you, being a bounty hunter was only fun when I had you by my side."

She smiled, her white teeth glowing against her ebony skin. "Shit, girlie. We kicked ass, don't you know."

"We sure did," I agreed with a watery smile. I had a feeling the greatness of our immortality as bounty hunters would only increase as time went by—at least in our own eyes.

"Call if you need to talk," she offered. "I'll be busy this weekend moving into Tank's place, but I'll be around all week."

"Thanks," I smiled. "We'll have to catch up on what's happening there soon, but now I have to run. I'm supposed to be at the lab by one o'clock to have my blood drawn for this test."

Lula shivered in revulsion. "I'd offer to buy you lunch first, but I just lost my appetite thinking about blood."

"I know the feeling," I muttered. On impulse, I leaned over and gave her a hug. "Talk soon, okay?"

"Damn Skippy," she agreed, climbing out of the SUV. "Later, girlie."

"Right," I whispered as the door shut, signifying yet another closed chapter in my life.

Perhaps I would be more excited about the baby if everything else in my life didn't seem to be coming to an end. I'd always pictured myself as being someone who never wanted to stay stagnant. It was one of the reasons why I was so hell bent on not becoming a Burg housewife. But going through this whole paternity issue was helping me to see I didn't handle change as well as I thought I did—or at least as it pertained to those I loved. I liked the reassurance of knowing I could count on certain things in my life—kind of like my father wanting the security of his dinner on the table at six o'clock every night.

Thinking of dinner reminded me I needed to eat. I found a nearby deli and forced myself to purchase a spinach salad with a grilled chicken breast on top, knowing I had to tempt fate with meat at some point. Okay, so the spinach had hot bacon dressing on top of it, and, yes, the deli had a display of homemade cookies calling my name by the cash register. But I also snagged a container of milk too, so that had to count for something!

I'd just settled down at a corner table to eat, when my cell phone rang. _Joe._

"Hey," I smiled into the phone. "Where are you?"

"Just leaving the DDC," he answered. I could hear the sound of wind, so I assumed he was still in the parking lot. "I ran over here at lunch. They said I was the first one of us to come in for the test." I heard the truck door open and close. "How you feeling?"

"Tired," I confessed my usual answer of late. "But okay. I'm at a deli over near the bonds office having lunch—a spinach salad with chicken."

"Impressive," he complimented. "I'll say a prayer it stays down."

"Thanks."

"You alone?"

"Yeah, I just left the bonds office."

"How'd it go?" he asked with sincere concern.

"It was okay," I answered truthfully. "Vinnie was pretty ticked, but what else is new. I told all of them about the pregnancy. Lula knows what's going on. She figured it out right away once I said how many weeks along I was."

"Do you think she'll keep quiet about it?" he sounded concerned. I don't think he really wanted the test being advertised as well.

"We can only hope," I sighed. "So—did it hurt?" I asked, referring to the blood test.

"No worse than any other blood test," he replied reassuringly. "You'll be fine. I wish I could stay and hold your hand, but I have to get back. We have another interview at one o'clock."

Clearing my throat, I said. "That's what time I'm planning to stop over at the DDC." _Shit, here went nothing. _"Um—Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"I texted Ranger the information about the test this morning."

"Okay," he responded dubiously. I could tell he already knew there was something more I was about to say.

"Well, about Ranger—"

"What about him?" the tone of his voice immediately changed.

"Please _try _and listen to what I'm about to say before commenting, okay?" I pleaded softly.

"What. About. Him?" he repeated through clenched teeth.

"I think it would be good for me to talk with him alone about—"

"No!" Joe immediately disagreed.

"Let me finish—"

"No, I don't want you anywhere near him," he shot back defensively. "I don't trust him—"

"Me," I argued. "It's _me _you don't trust."

"I didn't say that. Don't start putting words in my mouth again."

"Would you please just listen?"

"Fine. Talk."

I wanted to scream in frustration at how the beauty of our early morning time together had once again been shot to hell.

"I know, Ranger," I began tentatively and could have kicked myself for the poor choice of words.

"Yes, it's apparent you _know _him."

"Stop. Stop letting your jealousy and anger prevent you from hearing the truth of what I'm about to say."

"The truth?"

I swallowed the irritation I felt at his tone. "Yes. Ranger doesn't open up to anyone about anything, unless he chooses to, and for whatever reason, he's chosen to trust me."

"Lucky him."

Ignoring him, I rushed ahead. "I think it's important for us to use his willingness to talk with me as an opportunity to find out exactly why he wants to acknowledge paternity. You said yourself you didn't trust him. We need to know what's going on inside his head, and I think I'm the only one who can find that out."

"I don't want you anywhere near Manoso by yourself," Joe insisted stubbornly.

"Fine," I snapped back in frustration. "We'll do it your way. Believe me, I have no burning desire to be alone with him right now. It's awkward—"

"Shit," Joe exhaled loudly and then growled in annoyance.

"What kind of "shit" is that? A 'shit, Stephanie, will you shut up', a 'shit, I'm so angry right now', a—"

"It's a 'shit, you're right about Manoso'." He swore under his breath again. "I hate that."

I waited a moment in order for him to process this new thought some more.

"What are you saying?" I asked neutrally.

"I'm _saying_ I fucking hate that you're right about this," he repeated bitterly. "But you _are _right. You should talk to him by yourself."

"Really?" I was totally shocked he'd agreed.

"_BUT_—you have to swear to me it will be in a public place. No going off to his stupid Bat Cave or anywhere else private like that."

"I already planned on it. I asked what time he was going to take the test, so I could catch him at the DDC."

"I don't like this, Stephanie."

"I know you don't," I responded sincerely. "And I don't blame you. If the situation were reversed, and you were heading off to meet with Gilman, I'd be about ready to kill someone."

"Don't tempt me," he groused. "I'm asking that you please don't give me any reason to regret trusting you like this."

"If I planned to do something foolish, you think I would have talked to you about it beforehand?" I pointed out reasonably.

He still wasn't convinced. "I'd just feel better if I'd swallowed my pride and made love to you either last night or this morning. I hate the thought of you meeting up with him having unfulfilled sexual needs," he admitted uncomfortably.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Joe Morelli, heartthrob of Trenton, was feeling insecure I wouldn't be able to resist Ranger's sex appeal? Remembering my conversation at Denny's with Mary Lou the morning of our engagement, I guess I couldn't really blame him. Just because I saw him as arrogant and completely self-assured didn't mean the man didn't struggle with his own demons.

I purposefully lowered my voice and tried my best to sound convincingly sexy, "There's only one man who I want to fulfill my sexual needs with. If he could only find a way to forgive me and come home early, I'd show him just how much I need him."

"Damn it, Steph," Joe swore again tensely, and I knew I'd caught his attention.

"I'll leave you a message as soon as I'm done over there," I promised. "By the way, did you get my voicemail about finding a family law attorney?"

"Yeah, I'm looking into it. I'll have a name by the end of the day."

"Okay. I guess I'll talk with you later then."

"Right." He sounded conflicted. "Good luck with—" He paused as if trying to decide whether he really wanted to wish me luck with Ranger. Evidently not—because he ended with, "the salad."

"Right," I responded, letting out a small sigh. I couldn't let him go just yet. "Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you more every day, regardless of this mess," I vowed softly. "You've been so loving and considerate toward me in the midst of any ugly situation. You and I both know not many men would have been willing to give their wives another chance. I just wanted you to know I'm not going to let you down."

There was a short pause, but when he answered I could hear the smile back in his voice. "I love you too, Cupcake."

Disconnecting, I forced myself to concentrate on eating my lunch. Every bite of chicken resulted in a huge struggle with my gag reflex, but I took my time and tried to think of happier things while I chewed the offensive meat. Things like whether the baby would be a boy or a girl, about potential names and about potential jobs for this kid's Mommy. I'd go crazy if I had to sit around the house all day watching soap operas and eating Twinkies. I'd also probably weigh five hundred pounds. I mean how hard could motherhood actually be?

* * *

At precisely one o'clock I made my way into the lobby of the DDC, knowing full well that Ranger would be punctual as well. Sure enough, he was already seated in a chair in the corner looking at his phone. Quickly checking in with the receptionist, I made my over and took a seat kitty corner from him.

He glanced up as I sat down and raised an eyebrow. "Babe," he acknowledged almost defiantly.

Rolling my eyes, I started in. "Quit the crap. Let's not waste time going through the whole 'Babe' scene again."

"What?" he asked, shrugging a single shoulder. "I thought that whole show was for when we were in the presence of your _husband_."

"No, it's for all the time," I responded neutrally.

"Fine then—_Eliza,_" he enunciated with a fake smile, but then his façade dropped and he asked in all seriousness. "How are you feeling today?"

"I little better," I admitted. "Although the verdict is still out on whether my lunch will stay down or not."

"You eating right?"

"Trying."

For the first time, I really looked at Ranger. He was staring at me intently with his usual unfathomable expression; only today his eyes were clearly revealing confusion mixed with pain. It suddenly hit me—this whole mess was hurting him too.

I had just opened my mouth to speak, when a lab technician came out and called both of our names.

"Will you stay for a moment afterward?" I asked, carefully concealing my own feelings. "I really do think we need to talk."

"Here?" He looked around dubiously.

"We'll see if they have a consultation room available," I threw out recklessly.

He studied my face again, and then nodded once. "Alright. We'll talk."

I offered a small smile and started to walk past him, thus he startled me when he grabbed my elbow instead. Leaning toward my ear, he spoke clearly, "But don't think you're going to try and change my mind about acknowledging paternity. Understand? If that baby is mine, Stephanie—I _will _be the father."


	11. Chapter 11

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Every time I write a chapter, I think it's the hardest one I've written, until I write the next one. That's certainly been my experience this time, proven by the fact it's taken me a week to write the doggone thing. If you don't like it, perhaps you would have preferred one of the SIXTEEN other versions I wrote. ROFL! I only allowed Julie to see two of them, and once again I have to thank her for keeping me focused and motivated. For those of you who haven't heard, her story "After Eighteen" was accidentally deleted from the server for a short time. It's now back. If you haven't been reading her epic novel, get over there. It totally rocks!

Special thanks to RangerGirl too for her TREMENDOUS insight into Ranger's character. So much of this chapter came from her expertise.

Also, my sincerest thanks to all you you whom I am unable to thank personally, particularly to Plum Lucky, who has been so supportive of both Julie and me. It's much appreciated.

Have a good weekend, all!

* * *

Chapter Eleven

The next twenty minutes were ones I never hoped to repeat in my lifetime. As soon as we went behind the door to the labs, Ranger and I were separated to have our driver's licenses checked. We were then individually photographed, fingerprinted and asked at least a million questions before the technicians finally took the blood samples. _Blood samples—PLURAL. _It felt as though my body had been sucked dry before they were finished with me, although the technician said she'd only taken a couple of vials. _Hunh! _By the time I made it back to the waiting area, I was physically and emotionally drained. My legs were wobbly, and my stomach wasn't feeling all that great again either.

"If that's what it's like to be arrested, I hope to God I never am," I muttered to Ranger, when we met up once more in the waiting room. Propping myself against the wall, I closed my eyes. Fatigue was rapidly overpowering me. How was it possible to feel hungry and yet ready to puke at the same time?

"That was a cakewalk compared to being arrested," he responded knowingly. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he asked, "You okay? You look wiped out."

His touch was innocent enough, but, regardless, my body froze self-consciously. Physical contact with Ranger was _not _what I needed right now. While I didn't fear him or worry about being tempted by him sexually, being in close proximity still made me feel uncomfortable. Plus, I knew it wouldn't help Joe regain his trust in me if he knew Ranger was taking liberties by touching me no matter how innocuous the contact.

Trying not to appear rude, I pushed myself away from the wall and attempted a more upbeat disposition. "I'm okay."

Ranger gazed at me with a blank expression, but I could tell he sensed my discomfort. "Whatever you say," he said without emotion. Popping his neck from side to side, he added, "You wanted to talk?"

The nausea increased tenfold, and I started to sweat beneath my down-filled vest.

"Yeah," I managed to get out. Clearing my throat, I continued, "I'll go see if they have a consultation room or something else we can use."

The receptionist wasn't at her desk when I got there, so I waited impatiently, tapping my booted foot against the aging tile floor. The facility was playing some sort of Muzak love channel, and every song coming from the ceiling speakers was slow and mushy—not exactly what I wanted to hear at the moment. The current track caught my ear, however, and I realized it was the song Lula had sung to Joe and me during our first dance at the wedding reception. _Had that really only been ten days ago? _It felt like I'd lived a lifetime since then.

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to recall what it had felt like to move in Joe's arms that night, enjoying his caresses down the skin bared by my backless wedding gown. The sexual energy between us had sizzled, and we could hardly get close enough to one another. Just thinking about it had me unzipping my vest before I became overheated.

The receptionist finally returned, and after several more minutes she escorted Ranger and I to an unused office in the back of the building. Stepping inside, I about fell over when I heard "Torn Between Two Lovers" blaring from the ceiling. _What was this—the soundtrack of my life? _Silently, we waited for the receptionist to turn off the sound to the room and close the door behind her before we found seats in a pair of faded wing-backed chairs shoved into a corner. Ranger was trying awfully hard to appear indifferent, but I could tell by the way his palms were gripping the sides of his chair that he was equally as tense.

Releasing one hand from the chair, he ran his fingers across the back of his neck in a rare show of nerves and spoke. "Tell me the truth. How are you really feeling? Are you eating right? Did you buy some prenatal vitamins? Are you taking the Zofran?"

_Jesus, he already sounded like a father! _Was he going to be after me like this for the entire pregnancy? His concern stunned me, although it shouldn't have. In his own way, Ranger had been protecting my wellbeing almost as much as Joe had over the past three years. It frazzled me, I guess, simply because in my mind I'd moved him from mentor/lover status to—

To what?

_That _was the problem. I didn't know what the two of us were any longer—friends, periodic coworkers, future parents? It was confusing as hell, yet I knew without a doubt I no longer felt comfortable sharing the intimate details of my life with him. It felt like a further betrayal to Joe, and I was finished hurting him—intentionally or otherwise. But God, how were either one of us going to handle Ranger's active involvement if this was indeed his baby?

"I'm fine. Like I told you in the waiting room—I'm tired, but that's to be expected, right? I'm eating the best I can, and yes, I'm taking all the pills." I looked at the clock on the wall anxiously. _Shit, I was nervous!_

"Do you need anything?" he asked kindly. "I looked up the cost of the Zofran. It's obscene how expensive it is. I'd be willing to pay—"

"I appreciate the thought, but we have it covered," I quickly replied, knowing Joe would have a fit if he knew Ranger had even offered to help us.

"What about the doctor's fees? Without insurance—and now without you working—that's all going to add up quickly too. I can help."

"No—but thank you," I cut him off again.

"If you're worried about what Morelli will say, we don't even have to tell him. I could just—"

"No!" I shook my head. "No more secrets."

Ranger's face held a puzzled expression. "Okay—but I got to ask. Where the hell is Morelli getting all the money to pay for this shit? Last I knew he was a cop with a cop's salary."

I knew he meant well, but all of these questions were getting on my nerves.

"It's really not any—"

"I know it normally wouldn't be any of my business," he acknowledged with a slight nod. "But until I know one way or the other if I'm the father, I feel a certain sense of responsibility toward you. Morelli may not be my favorite person, but I sure as hell don't want the two of you going into debt because his fucking pride won't allow him to accept my help.

"We're not going into debt."

Was Ranger insinuating Joe was inferior somehow because he didn't make as much money as him? No, more than likely he was genuinely concerned, and I was acting overly hormonal. I was so tired I didn't know what to think any longer.

"Joe got a promotion along with a significant raise before the wedding," I informed Ranger reluctantly, uncomfortable with sharing the status of our personal finances with him.

"Yeah, I heard about that."

"You did?" My mouth dropped open. "How? From whom?"

One corner of his mouth curled. "You should know by now there's not much I don't know about in Trenton."

I was still in shock, and my mind raced. How had he found out? Who'd told him? _Was he purposefully keeping tabs on us? _So deep were my thoughts I almost missed his next comment.

"He may have gotten a raise, but that's still not going to be enough to cover all of these bills. You should let me help—"

"Joe also received a hefty reward check from an anonymous donor as a result of the Kennard Case," I blurted, tired of the inquisition. _Oops! _Maybe Joe didn't want that bit of information advertised. _Damn my runaway mouth!_

"_Hunh_, so that's how he paid for the wedding," Ranger grunted to himself.

"He's more than capable of taking care of me and the baby," I asserted, once again feeling compelled not to allow Ranger to minimize my husband's ability to provide for his family."

"Must have been a hell of a reward."

Not wanting to do any more damage with my mouth on that subject, I racked my brain for a new one. Ranger beat me to the punch.

"Did you quit your job yet?"

"This morning," I admitted begrudgingly.

How did it Vinnie take the news?" he asked, still showing heartfelt interest.

Once again I felt irritated. Stop_ it—Stephanie. Stop feeling so bothered by his attention. He's only being considerate_.

I waved my hand dismissively. "You know Vinnie. He was a total jerk, but I got through it okay."

"I'm sorry you had to quit. I know how much your job means to you," he said in the same low tone that used to drive me wild with lust. Now it just made me feel empty.

I surprised myself by saying, "Not really. I was thinking about quitting anyway."

Both of Ranger's eyebrows shot up. "Oh really?" he drawled. "What's the plan now? Morelli got you brainwashed into thinking you should be a Burg housewife after all?"

I had to dig my nails into my palms in order to keep myself from lashing out him. This whole conversation was making me feel increasingly nauseous—both physically and emotionally.

"Leave it alone, Ranger," I warned.

"Why are you holding back on me here?" he asked, still looking perplexed at my attitude.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're only giving me bits and pieces. What's going on?"

Letting out a weary sigh, I looked away from him. "I don't know. It's just awkward."

"What is?"

I motioned between us. "Talking like this—it's awkward."

He studied me carefully. "Why? You've never had trouble talking with me before."

_Huh? _Who was he kidding? I'd _always _had a hard time _talking_ to him. Flirting—yes, bantering—yes, but I could only recall a few instances where we'd gone deeper verbally. Despite our sexual past and the fact I'd worked with him in any number of professional capacities, the man was still a complete mystery to me. In the past, whenever I'd pushed for more, he'd always retreated, claiming his lifestyle prevented him from offering me more than the clandestine relationship we had.

I really didn't have an answer to his question, so I sat there staring at my hands. Several long moments passed in silence while we each contemplated our next move. Finally, Ranger's patience reached its limit.

"What the hell is going on with you?" he demanded, allowing his own frustration to seep out of his usual self-control. He folded his arms across his chest. It was the same defensive posture Joe had used the previous night during our big blowout.

"What do you mean?" Without warning, my knee started bouncing up and down.

"It's a simple enough question. You act like you're scared to death of me."

"I'm not scared. It's just all of these questions are annoying the hell out of me right now." _Oops! Too much candor again._

"Well pardon me for caring about how you and the baby are doing!" he snapped, and I realized how bitchy I truly sounded.

"Sorry," I murmured, feeling somewhat contrite. "I know you mean well."

"What the hell is there to feel awkward about?" he persisted, focusing on my earlier statement. "I'm doing all I can to make a connection with you again after everything that's happened. You're the one who's working so hard to change everything between us."

I couldn't resist rolling my eyes. "Duh—because everything _has_ changed."

"Not from where I'm sitting. Your name may be different, but you're still the same person you were two weeks ago."

"No, I'm not." I shook my head with sudden seriousness. "I'm not at all the same."

Ranger frowned. "This is Morelli's fault. He's forcing to you into that cage after all, despite telling both of us he wouldn't try and stop our friendship. Fuck—I should've known he'd go back on his word. "

"This has nothing to do with Joe." My eyes narrowed in defense of my husband. "This is about me. _I've _changed. I was just in paradise celebrating the most beautiful week imaginable only to come home and find out my selfishness is finally catching up with me. I hate myself for the pain I've caused Joe."

He looked at me with open confusion. "That still doesn't explain why you're acting so strangely toward me—spouting off about boundaries and telling me not to call you Babe anymore _even _when Morelli isn't around. What the hell difference does it make what I call you? It's only a nickname."

"A pretty intimate one. And I told you it makes me uncomfortable now."

"But why should it?"

"It's too personal. It doesn't show respect to either me or Joe—"

"I respect you," Ranger countered. "And Morelli may have earned my respect as a good cop, but he sure as hell hasn't earned it as a man. I'm still trying to figure out why he has yours. He's made too many mistakes concerning you."

"And I've made just as many—if not more—when it comes to him," I volleyed in an even tone, my eyes shimmering with unshed tears. _There went the damn hormones again!_"The biggest of which was not being completely honest with him about my attraction to you from the very beginning. For that matter not being honest with him at _any _point in my relationship with him. Now look at what that's costing me."

"Like he would have accepted your desire for me," Ranger snorted, ignoring my attempt to acknowledge my betrayal.

"He shouldn't have had to?" I protested, shaking my head. "We were in a relationship."

"Christ, if you'd said something like that to him, he would have been out of your life faster than you a heartbeat."

"At least he would have known the truth," I countered softly, allowing Ranger to see my regret. "I've spent the past three years living a lie. Lying to Joe about my relationship with you and lying to you that I wasn't in love with him the entire time. The reality is I used you to try and run away from my fear of commitment."

The truth of that statement knocked me mentally on my ass, and I repeated it dazedly. "I _used_ you, Ranger, and I'm ashamed of that fact. Because of it, I've potentially ruined what's left of our friendship—not to mention the damage it's doing to my marriage."

"You didn't use me," he said with irritation. "We had a mutual attraction that we both acted upon. Why are you making such a fucking big deal about all of this?"

"Because fooling around with you may very well have cheated Joe and me out of the most intimate experience a couple can have together!" I put a fist to my mouth to hold back the sob lodged in the back of my throat—or maybe it was vomit. I was really starting to feel ill.

"Wait—" Ranger lifted his hand to stop me, oblivious to my emotions. "This is suddenly making sense. This ridiculous attitude of yours is because of Morelli's reaction to the baby, isn't it? All of this _drama_ regarding boundaries and not calling you "Babe" is payback because he's angry and taking it out on you."

My faced mirrored the incredulous feelings I had inside. "No! And you make it sound like Joe's sulking because he found out you're taking me to the prom—not the fact the woman he married ten days ago may be pregnant with her former lover's child! That's a pretty big fucking deal, Ranger," I exclaimed, referring to his earlier comment.

He stared at me cooly. "Calm—down."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down!" I shrieked. "You are not _my _father." Clenching my fists, I struggled to regain control.

Ranger waited patiently for me to settle with that insufferable self-discipline of his before continuing, "Granted the timing of your pregnancy is unfortunate, but it happened. I'm not upset about it—and Morelli shouldn't be either. It's the chance you take when you have sex. Why are you shouldering all of the responsibility for what's happened? Morelli needs to take on some as well."

"And you?" I accused pointedly. "Do you accept some level of responsibility in this mess?"

Ranger went on as if I hadn't spoken. He and Lula were cut from the same cloth. "I've said a million times, Morelli was an idiot for allowing you to get close to me in the first place. Had he been a man—"

"He _is _a man, Ranger!" My voice shook from the anger that once again swept through me. "He's an amazing man who trusted me even when logic told him not to. And what did I offer him in return? Lies—all the time. To make matters worse, he tried before we were married to give me the chance to confess everything to him and start our marriage off with a clean slate—everything forgiven and forgotten. And you know what I did then? I lied some more."

"You were scared and confused."

"Scared—yes, but not confused. I knew what I'd done and chose to deceive him. I held back and didn't tell him about stupid Vordo week or post-Hawaii when I was back and forth between the two of you like a goddamned ping pong ball. Instead I allowed him to believe the relationship I had with you only occurred when I was broken up with him. He no longer trusts me, Ranger, and that's fucking critical to a marriage."

"Well he obviously knows the truth about those things now, right? So what? His feelings are hurt?" he scoffed. "He'll get over it. I'm sure Morelli has done some incredibly stupid things himself in the past. In fact, I know he has—like letting you get close to me."

"Will you drop that dig already? It's getting tiresome."

"If it looks like shit, smells like shit—"

"Stop! Anything he did to hurt me in the past—which you know nothing about by the way—he confessed and asked for my forgiveness _before _we spoke vows to one another." I shook my head in further self-condemnation. "I couldn't even give him the same courtesy. I was so afraid he'd change his mind about marrying me, I willingly said my vows knowing I still had secrets."

"You know, it's really none of his business what you and I did," Ranger reasoned. "You're a grown woman who had no ring and no formal commitment from him. _You didn't cheat_."

"What? How can you say that when you were the one who sent me back to him after the first time you and I slept together," I shot back. "You told me you knew my _heart_had a commitment to him. And that's how it felt every time I had sex with you, Ranger. I felt guilty _every single time_. What does that tell you? That was a commitment whether it was formalized or not."

Ranger's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not as gullible as Morelli, and you can't lie to me. Every time we made love—guilt or no guilt—it meant something to you."

"At the time—perhaps. But in hindsight it was all so foolish. I regret that my decisions are now causing pain for all three of us."

"You _regret,"_ he repeated, zeroing in on that one word. "Do you regret what we had?"

I took a deep breath, and tried to swallow my mixed emotions. This conversation was depleting me of all energy, and it was only bound to get worse.

"I don't regret learning from you and having a friendship that went beyond the surface, if that's what you mean," I offered in a softer tone. "It meant a lot that you gave me access to the man very few people are allowed to know—that you trusted me."

"Friendship is _not _what I'm talking about, and you damn well know it."

Whereas I was trying to regain self-control, Ranger seemed to be losing his more and more.

I tried again. "I regret allowing myself—and you—to think for one minute I wasn't madly in love with Joe. I regret being so afraid of my feelings for him that I used you to escape from them—"

"What kind of brainwashed bullshit is this? What the fuck has Morelli done to you!" he yelled. "What we had was _real_, and it went both ways. You wanted me just as much as I wanted you."

"Sexually yes," I agreed. My insides were beginning to shake uncontrollably. "I won't lie. I was physically attracted to you. You were gorgeous, mysterious and unbelievably sexy—a dangerous combination for a woman running from commitment."

Ranger leaned forward into my personal space. "And you _ARE_ gorgeous—along with naïve and unbelievably sexy—an equally dangerous combination for a man with no desire to become entangled in a relationship."

His voice dropped to a guttural rasp. "Damn it, Stephanie, you made me fall in love with you—only to snatch away my chance at happiness. I already despise Morelli for it, and it's taking everything I have not to hate you too—especially now that you're trying to deny you ever loved me."

My face flushed with guilt. "I'm not denying I loved you. But it was more like an infatuation—"

"Bullshit!" Ranger exploded, fully unleashing his fury. "Don't patronize me, _Babe_. Your feelings ran a hell of a lot deeper than friendship, and you fucking know it. Think about how you felt every time we made love—the intensity of our connection—the heat—the passion that burned so hot it about fucking consumed us. Have you forgotten Hawaii or my car or Barnhart's closet—or my bed?"

"You're talking about sex," I shot back. "I'm talking about love and commitment and emotional support and open communication—about wanting to build a _life _with someone. That's what I have with Joe in addition to all of the passion you described—and more."

"Do you? Sounds to me like you have a husband who has his nuts in a twist over the fact he was too stupid to see what was in front of his face for three fucking years." Ranger leaned back in his chair and assessed me. "What Morelli got was lucky. Had the whole Kennard case not happened, I question whether you two would even be married right now."

I was dumbfounded. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Ranger shrugged one shoulder indifferently. "You admitted last month you were confused over the two of us. Hell, you must have been if you were willing to sleep with us both in the same week—"

"And I suppose you think I should be with you instead?"

How mortifying he'd brought up Vordo week up again. _Would the humiliation of those seven days ever go away?_

"We'll never know, will we? You never gave me the option," he answered sarcastically. "You dangled the question out that night at Pino's, asking me if I loved you and then snatched it all back two hours later when you found out about Morelli and the explosion. What kind of messed up shit was that?"

I'd had enough of his blame. "I gave you a chance," I reminded him, my voice growing more detached by the second. "And what did you do? You resorted to your familiar litany of phrases as to why you can't become emotionally involved with someone in a committed relationship. It's all I've heard for three years. Well to hell with that crap!"

"At least I told the truth," he jabbed back uncharacteristically. "That's more than you can say, Babe."

My heart constricted. "Why are we doing this?" I whispered miserably, closing my eyes momentarily, fighting another wave of nausea. "You said it yourself in the letter you gave to me before the wedding that you thought I'd made the right choice. Your exact words were Joe and I were destined to be together."

"I'm not questioning your feelings for Morelli," he said, once more trying to mask his own emotions. "You two have a history that's impossible to compete with. The letter was the only thing I could think of to show you I loved you enough to let you go."

"I didn't realize you even saw it as a competition. I thought you were in it for the fun—no attachment, no commitment—just periodic flirtation and sex when the mood struck you. That's certainly what you told me often enough."

"My life—"

"Oh fuck your life!" I shouted with bitterness I didn't know I felt. "Fuck your excuses and reasons. I've heard them all." My fingers ticked them off. "Your life is full of uncertainty and danger; there are things that no one can know about you; you're not cut out for long term commitment—did I miss anything?"

"I thought you accepted those limitations. Hell, I thought they appealed to you."

"Haven't you been listening to me? I allowed myself to believe freedom was what I needed when all along the person I was running away from was the one I needed the most." I met his stormy gaze. "This isn't a game. I am _in love _with Joe, and I'm freer than I've ever been!"

"What's the big deal then?" he questioned, looking completely confused. "You and Morelli do nothing _but_ fight. Clearly it's part of your mating ritual. He'll brood about this for a while or fly off the handle with that insane, macho temper of his, until you give in to his wishes, and then you'll finally make-up. You've done it a million times."

"This isn't about me forgetting to put the cover back on a tube of toothpaste. I _betrayed_ Joe. He trusted me, and I deceived him repeatedly. Worse yet, when he gave me the chance to make things right before the wedding, I chose to lie some more."

Shaking my head, I continued, "I don't expect you to understand. You weren't at the wedding to see how happy we were—to see how our relationship has changed." My stomach pitched dangerously again at what I'd lost.

"Changed how?"

I looked directly into his fathomless brown eyes. "Something happened last week, Ranger. Actually, it's been building over the past five weeks. It's hard to explain, but Joe and I have became one in every sense."

"What the fuck?" For not being Italian, Ranger did a pretty good imitation of one by throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly.

I realized he was still operating under the image of how things used to be when I was afraid of committing to Joe and flitting back and forth between the two of them. He truly didn't understand my relationship with my husband had gone to a new level of awareness and understanding—at least it had until my stupidity caught up with me. Now I wasn't sure where we stood.

Struggling to explain, I fumbled. "We're one body—one soul—one person."

"Oh Jesus Christ," Ranger actually rolled his eyes at what he considered melodrama.

"Like I said—I don't expect you to understand. I know you didn't have that kind of connection with Rachel—"

With lightning speed Ranger leaned forward to point his finger at me. "You don't know _anything_ about Rachel other than what I've allowed you to know. Don't try to intimate you understand what my marriage was like."

I immediately backpedaled. "I'm not. I'm just saying from what you've told me, you married her because you felt it was the right thing to do—not because you were in love with her."

"Evidently not everyone is as fortunate to become "one soul" like the Morelli's," he taunted resentfully.

My face flushed in embarrassment. Even though I knew he was mocking me because of the pain I'd caused him, it still hurt to have Ranger belittling my intense feelings for Joe. It was time to get this conversation on the right track before there was no hope of salvaging a friendship between us. We needed to focus on the baby as well as Ranger's intentions—not all this history that couldn't be changed.

"Let's not do this anymore, okay?" I took a risk and let him see with my eyes how much our argument was affecting me. "You're right. I did love you, Ranger."

A look of pure shock crossed his face at my statement, and I could understand why. Talk about an abrupt change of heart after all the rancor of the past fifteen minutes. I rushed ahead before he could respond.

"We may never agree on the level of intensity that love had, but I did love you—I still _do_ love you."

I had his attention now.

"But the kind of love I'm offering isn't what you want—we both know that. The offer is still there to be your friend, but you have to understand I won't be your lover, your not-so-secret admirer or anything remotely similar ever again."

Pausing, I leaned my head wearily against the wall, exhaling in fatigue. "If this baby is indeed yours, we're going to _have_ to find a way to remain friends—or at the very least speak comfortably with one another—in order to provide consistent, loving care."

"I'm not the one who's having the problem, Babe," Ranger said acidly. Clearly, he was still struggling with his emotions.

It was too much.

Hearing him call me Babe yet again—knowing he was choosing to disrespect me in response to his own pain—brought home even more clearly what a mess I'd created. Just like with my marriage, I'd now possibly caused irreparable damage to another relationship with someone whom I cared about. Hadn't I done the same thing in the past with Mary Lou, alienating her to the point where we almost couldn't repair our friendship? How blessed I was that she'd forgiven me! And Joe? Would he and I ever get back to the place we were last week? Would he ever trust me again? Now Ranger felt betrayed by the way I was changing the dynamics between the two of us. What was wrong with me that I couldn't treat those that I loved—and for that matter myself—with the respect we all deserved?

Without warning, the tension and anxiety and guilt that had been building inside of me for days—no weeks—burst forth in a geyser of hormonal tears. This wasn't a few sniffles and an attempt to gain sympathy. It was an explosion of grief. I was in mourning—for my marriage, for Ranger, who was now having to deal with the ramifications of the games I'd played, for my baby who had to live even one moment of its life feeling unloved or unwanted by its own mother, and, yes, even for me and my own selfish stupidity.

Doubled over in my chair, I sobbed uncontrollably, no longer even aware of Ranger's presence. _Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. _I didn't even realize I was saying the words aloud, until suddenly I felt bile in the back of my throat, and I began to look around frantically for a wastebasket.

"Oh God!" I cried out again as my stomach began to heave.

I closed my eyes and convulsed, preparing for the worst, when I felt Ranger's hand on the back of my neck and a wastebasket on my lap.

"Shh…it's okay, Stephanie," Ranger spoke softly, rubbing my back gently as I emptied my lunch into the receptacle. "Hang in there. It'll be over in a minute."

This was the worst episode yet. It felt as though my stomach lining was coming loose from the fierceness of the convulsions.

As soon as I was done, my body began to shake uncontrollably. Ranger set the wastebasket aside and kneeled beside me. His hand was still on my back, and he moved it slowly to tentatively touch my cheek. "Are you finished?" he asked quietly.

My teeth were chattering so badly I could only now nod my head.

"I'll be right back," he said, and he quickly left with the wastebasket only to return moments later with an empty bin, a bottle of water and a package of crackers from the vending machine in the lobby. He offered the water to me. "Here, try a couple of sips. Easy now."

I did as he said, and after a few moments, I was feeling a little more stable, although now I was more tired than ever. Whether it was embarrassment, nerves or fatigue—I just couldn't seem to lift my head from where it was bowed over my lap.

"Let's not do this anymore today," Ranger suggested. He'd pulled his chair closer so that our knees were touching and had the clean wastebasket close at hand in case I had a relapse.

I shook my head. "No, we need to get this resolved before those test results come back. I can't stand not knowing what's going on inside your head about this whole paternity test." _Hadn't wanting to get inside his head always been the case between us?_

"Stephanie, you're beyond exhausted. Go home and get some rest. This isn't good for either you or the baby."

"No," I refused insistently. "What's not good for me and the baby is this constant stress." Looking at him out of the corner of my eyes for the first time, I said, "I don't want to fight anymore, Ranger."

"I don't either," he agreed.

Lifting my head completely, I gazed at him sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry—for everything."

We both knew everything encompassed a whole hell of a lot, but I was too whipped to hash through _everything_ again.

He nodded his head once. "I'm sorry too—about getting you upset just now. You don't need more anger directed at you. I'm sure you're getting enough of that at home."

Once again I felt compelled to defend my husband. "You're wrong. Under the circumstances, Joe has been incredibly supportive of me the past few days. Yes, he's angry, but he's never once not been there to take care of my needs."

"Whatever. He—"

I held up my hand. "Please—stop. Let's both just stop, okay? This isn't about Joe. You two are never going to get along—I get that—and I'm never going to be able to convince you he's the right man for me, so let's try, at least for now, to let it go."

"It's hard," Ranger acknowledged stiffly. "I feel like I've been cheated out of the one chance I maybe had for a real relationship.

"Well, you can pin that on me—not him." I swallowed hard. "It was my choice to start something with you, and it was my choice to end it. Had I done things differently, none of us would be hurting right now, and an innocent child wouldn't be stuck in the midst of all this turmoil."

Ranger was trying hard to slip his protective cover back over his emotions, but his next question reflected his continued struggle to accept that things really _had _changed between us.

"What are you going to do if this baby is mine?"

_Shit! Here I was trying to get us focused on what HIS paternity plans were, and he was tossing out another minefield for me to navigate._

Realizing I was perilously close to using half-truths to soothe his ego, I followed my conscious for a change and spoke from the heart. "Joe and I will handle whichever way the results go."

"Handle. What does that mean exactly?" his voice went scary calm again.

"It means Joe is fully prepared to be a father to this child no matter whose it is."

"No."

One word said in a steely voice, and I had the answer to all my questions. Ranger's off-hand comment before we walked into the blood lab hadn't been so off-hand after all. He fully intended to be an involved parent.

His voice shook from trying to maintain control. I could tell he was afraid of me getting sick again, but at the same time he wasn't about to back down from this confrontation.

"Morelli will _not _be the father to any kid of mine," he couldn't stop the glare that appeared on his face. "Are you listening to me, Stephanie? He will NOT be the father."

"And why is that?" I was genuinely curious, although I thought I already knew the answer.

"Because he already took you; he won't take OUR child too," he answered fiercely.

"Ranger, you may not like Joe, but you know his character. He's not going to try and steal anything away from you. He would love this baby simply because it's a part of me."

"No," he said adamantly.

"Is this all one big game to you?" I accused in disbelief. "You can't have me, so you'll take the baby as some sort of consolation prize? That's insane."

"It's also inaccurate. That's not what I'm saying at all." Pushing his chair back, he stood and went over to lean against the desk in order to give us both some much-needed space.

"Then what _are _you saying? You're confusing the hell out of me. Since when have you ever shown any interest in being a father? Neither one of us has ever had parental urges. For God's sake, you already have a child you barely see—"

"Exactly." Ranger thumped his fist lightly against the desktop and continued, "_That's _why I'm doing this."

"But you've always said you weren't involved with Julie by choice—because of your lifestyle and because you felt it was better for her to have two stable parents in Ron and Rachel. You even let Ron adopt Julie! Why on earth would this situation be any different?"

"I told you I've done all the things a father should at the very minimum do for his child. I've maintained a moral and financial obligation to Julie, because she's my flesh and blood. I've sent birthday and Christmas presents, and I've made a point to see her whenever business takes me to Miami. But I'm not her daddy—Ron is. Do you know how fucking hard it is to know another man has the right to be called Daddy by _my _flesh and blood?"

"But I thought that's the way you wanted it?" I was truly stunned at the notion Ranger was dissatisfied with the relationship he had with his daughter. "I thought you married Rachel to give her financial support and Julie a name—"

"A name she doesn't even use. She's Julie _Martine_," he said in disgust.

"So why don't you make more of an effort to be a part of her life?" I wondered. "I can't believe Rachel would deny you the opportunity, especially after you saved Julie from Scrog."

Ranger shook his head. "It's too late to start something there. Julie would be confused, and it would be hard on their whole family. Plus, the fact remains my life _is_dangerous."

"But it's not too dangerous for _MY_ baby?" My eyes widened at the irony.

"You've seen the security at Rangeman. I'm better able to handle a child's safety here in Trenton. This is my largest office, and here I have the most staff at my disposal to help me," he explained. "It would give me the chance to experience all that I missed with Julie."

"Sort of a do-over," I said disdainfully.

"No! I would never cheapen Julie's existence by thinking of this child as being better than her somehow. It's just different. I did the best I could for her at that particular time in my life. I'm older now with at least a little more stable life. I can provide for this baby in a way I couldn't Julie."

"I don't want my baby to be _provided _for," my voice started to rise again. "I want it to be loved, nurtured, played with and adored. Motherhood may never have been high on my "to-do" list all these years, but now that the chance is here I'm not going blow this. I'm going to be a good mother, Ranger, and we both know Joe will be a hell of a fath—"

"Not—to—my—child," Ranger spoke through a clenched jaw. "No adoption, no financial support, no taking my place at ball games or ballet recitals. That's my right, and I'm taking it. I kept my emotional distance from Julie and look where it got me. I _didn't _keep myself emotionally distanced from you and look where it got me. Both times I got burned. This time I'm not playing games. I will be the father of this child."

"So what—Joe has to remain twenty feet from your kid at all times?" It took everything I had not to sneer at the notion. "That's going to be a little difficult when the baby is living under the same roof as him. This is asinine! Can't you both play an important role?"

"I'm not saying Morelli can't be a part of the baby's life. He just won't _replace_ me. I refuse to emotionally abandon _two _of my children."

"Do you have an attorney already?"

"The Acknowledgement of Paternity is set and ready to go. If the paternity test proves I'm the father, my lawyer will contact yours immediately to begin custody mediation."

"That's going to be a problem then," I noted grimly. "Because I can guarantee you Joe isn't going to deny paternity. This thing will no doubt end up in court. Is that what you really want?"

"I want what's mine. I wanted you, but you chose not to be mine. I won't make the same mistake with my child." He met my concerned gaze with eyes filled with purpose and not an ounce of regret. "Morelli can fight me all he wants, but this baby will never call him Daddy."

"The baby and I are not possessions, Ranger."

"Not monetary or physical possessions—no—but you are possessions of the heart."

"I never knew you hated Joe so much," I murmured.

Ranger shook his head. "It's not about hate. You may have moved on with your life, Babe—and I promise it's the last time I'll ever call you that—but I'm not there. I still love you. I don't want to, but I don't know how I'll ever be able to stop. I feel like God's giving me a little piece of you to still love through this child, and there's no way in hell I'm letting Morelli take that away from me too."

_He might never get over me?_

I sat there processing the depth of his resolve when it came to the baby and me. There wasn't going to be a peaceful resolution to this situation no matter whom the father was. My friendship with Ranger was precarious at best and doomed at worst. And now I had the joy of having to tell Joe what we were up against.

Feeling bone weary and emotionally shattered, there was nothing more I wanted to do than to go home, crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.

"Thank you for talking with me," I said stiffly. _Jesus, even our pleasantries were awkward. _"Sorry about getting sick and all."

"No problem," he nodded once in return, once more devoid of emotion.

He was still leaning against the desk and eyed me closely as I stood to leave.

"There's really nothing more than can be said until we get back the results of the test," I noted weakly. "I need to get going."

"You okay to drive?" he asked solicitously.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

I brushed past him to leave, and just as he had earlier in the waiting room, he reached out to take hold of my elbow. "Stephanie, if you need anything—"

Tears were threatening once more, and I knew I needed to get out of there. I nodded my head several times without speaking and reached out to squeeze his hand before heading out the door.

I acknowledged no one as I made my way through the maze of hallways. Struggling to maintain control, I made it all the way to Joe's SUV before breaking down again. God, it felt like there was no end in sight to this nightmare of mine.

Flipping down the visor to assess my appearance in the little mirror following my meltdown back in the office, I cringed at my bloodshot and puffy eyes. In addition, my nose was red and the skin on my face was blotchy. I looked like hell. Noticing the bitter taste of bile still in my mouth, I scrounged around in my bag to find a travel-sized tube of mouthwash and quickly rinsed before spitting it out the car door.

The last thing I wanted was for Ranger to come out and see me crying, so I quickly headed toward home. The only problem was all the tears were making it difficult to see the road. I had no plans to stop however until I reached my bed. I didn't want to think or feel or listen to anyone else right now. I only wanted to escape through sleep. When my phone rang I swore in response, until I looked at the Caller ID.

_Joe._

I definitely wasn't up to the conversation he and I needed to have now—at least not without a nap first, but I didn't want him to think I was avoiding him either. Things between us were shaky enough already without adding insult to injury. I tried to clear my throat of tears and forced a smile to my voice.

"Hey," I greeted with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

"Cupcake, where are you?" Joe sounded tense, and immediately my senses went into overdrive.

"What's wrong?" I returned, ignoring his question.

"I'm over at your apartment. Tell me where you are, Steph—please."

"I just left the DDC. I'm on my way home."

I could hear the sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. "You've been with Ranger all this time?"

"Yes. Why? Why are you at my apartment?"

"Dillon called in to dispatch about an hour ago."

"Omigod—did somebody break in?"

"Uh, sort of—I guess—but that's not all. Whoever broke in is still here. He's dead."

"What!"

Joe sighed again. "Yeah. I know."

"Who is it?" I demanded, suddenly terrified.

"Haven't a clue, but it might not be a bad idea for you to swing by and take a look to see if _you _know him."

"Will you allow me?"

"It's your apartment. And as primary on this case—"

"Primary—you mean you're back to really working?"

"Apparently. Rogers sent me out here once he heard it was your place."

"Isn't that some kind of conflict of interest?"

"Hell yeah. But I think he knew I wasn't going to keep my nose out of things, especially since they already have me shut out of Tony's investigation. Call it a welcome home gift, I guess."

Now it was my turn to sigh. I so badly needed to lie down, but I couldn't imagine who could be lying dead in my apartment right now. Just the thought of it made my skin crawl.

"I'll be there in a few," I promised.

"You sound exhausted, Cupcake? Did everything go okay?"

"I've been better," I confessed. "I'll tell you all about it later."

Joe hesitated but agreed. "Drive safely. Love you."

"I love you too."

Five minutes later I came upon my old apartment complex and goggled at the number of police vehicles in the parking lot. I ended up having to park almost a block down the street where I spent a few minutes trying to clean myself up again by applying new make-up and using some more mouthwash. When I finally got out and approached the lobby door, I was surprised to see Eddie standing guard.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Morelli," he grinned cheekily at me before bussing my cheek with a kiss. "Good to see all the rumors floating around about you are unfounded. Morelli assured me the honeymoon wasn't over yet, and that you were definitely Mrs. _Joseph _Morelli."

Thankful that Joe had done his share to stop the nasty rumors about Tony and me, I wasn't about to correct Eddie that the honeymoon had definitely ended on Sunday afternoon right there at the apartment with my baby news. He escorted me upstairs himself via the elevator before handing me off to a couple of other officers whose faces weren't familiar to me.

"This here's the owner of the apartment," Eddie informed them. "Morelli's wife."

The one guy tilted his head sideways. "He's in the bedroom."

"Thanks," I smiled, already praying to God they had the dead body covered. I didn't want to embarrass myself by puking in front of Joe's coworkers.

Stepping inside the open doorway, I gasped in surprise. The place had been ransacked. _What the hell! _Dillon and I had left the place locked when we were finished packing the day before. I looked around and noticed there wasn't much stuff scattered, simply because there wasn't that much left in the place. However, furniture had been turned upside down, cushions had been slashed and all of my dishes were now shattered on the floor.

Carefully I picked my way around the crime technicians as they worked to find signs of evidence—fingerprints, hair follicles, and pieces of skin. I wasn't sure if it was due to fatigue or shock, but my mind had disconnected from my body as I walked back toward the bedroom. Joe was standing in the doorway with his back to me, giving orders to someone inside the room.

I couldn't resist reaching out and placing my hand on his waist. "Joe?"

He immediately turned and, seeing me, pulled me into his arms, which surprised me given the fact he was on the job and didn't normally offer displays of affection when he was working. He took a moment to breath in my scent and dropped a brief kiss on my lips before speaking.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he murmured for my ears only. "And I'm thankful you have an alibi." He looked at my face closely. "You look all-in, Cupcake. It was rough, huh?"

I wasn't sure if he was referring to the blood test or the conversation with Ranger, but I answered truthfully to both notions. "Yes."

"I'll make this fast, and then I want you to go home and rest."

"You won't get an argument from me," I vowed, leaning against the doorjamb for support.

Glancing over at the bed, I was relieved to see a sheet had indeed been pulled over the victim's body.

"Is it grizzly?" I asked nervously, knowing my stomach couldn't take it if it was.

Joe shook his head. "No—looks like a heart attack or drug overdose. We won't know until we get the toxicology reports back. One quick peek is all you need to take. I just want to make certain it's not one of your past FTA's."

"Okay," I agreed tiredly. "Let's hurry up and get this over with."

Joe signaled one of the other men in the room, who deftly pulled back the sheet to reveal a man in his mid-thirties. He had blond hair and a faded, pencil-thin scar running down the length of his left cheek. I could feel Joe's eyes watching me as I took in the man's appearance.

Tilting my head to look up at my husband, I shook my head. "I've never seen him."

Joe winced. "I'm not certain whether I should be happy or upset about that."

"Why in the hell would someone be dead in my apartment?" I fretted. "Dillon and I locked the place yesterday when we left."

"The lock was jimmied," Joe explained. "And I have no idea what the answer is to your first question. Looks like I'll be working late tonight trying to find out."

I couldn't keep the disappointment from my face at the news, and he noticed.

"Come on—I'll walk you to your car."

"Don't you mean _your _car?" I couldn't resist teasing.

"No, I want you to have it," he said, swinging his arm over the back of my shoulder as he led me out of the apartment and down the street to where I'd parked. "I'll get something else soon, but I like knowing you're in a safe vehicle."

"You're such a Dad already," I smiled. "Taking care of your family like this—"

I stopped, because immediately my conversation with Ranger came to mind.

"What's the matter? Why'd you stop?" Joe asked. We were at the SUV, and he opened the door to let me into the driver's seat.

I wanted to put him off. Worse yet, I wanted to lie about what had happened with Ranger. How pathetic was that? My life was filled with nothing but problems resulting from my lies, and yet I still felt the urge to rely on deception because it was easier.

Shrugging my shoulders, I climbed into the car and slumped in the seat. Joe was still standing next to me with door open, and I grimaced. "It didn't go well with Ranger."

Joe held up a finger. "Wait."

He hurried around to the other side of the SUV and climbed into the passenger's seat. "What the hell happened? Did he upset you?"

I opened my mouth to say no and instead the whole conversation came spilling out of me—every word, every emotion, every nuance—even the part about my getting sick. Throughout it all, Joe never said a word. He merely sat there, wearing his cop face, and absorbing every tiny detail.

When I'd finished, I didn't dare look at him for fear of what his reaction would be, thus he shocked the hell out of me by pulling me roughly over the center console, plunging his hands into my hair and attacking my mouth with a ferocity I hadn't seen or felt in days.

His hands never moved from my hair, but his lips were everywhere—across my forehead, next to my ear, across my cheeks, against my lips. Not that I was complaining—in fact I was rejoicing—but it felt as though he was trying to devour me. When he finally pulled away, it was only to gaze at me with desire-filled eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" I asked, completely mystified.

"For the truth. That's the first time in all the years we've been together I've felt like you've told me everything and held nothing back. You have no idea how that feels. I swear to God I love you more right now than I ever have."

My heart practically jumped out of my chest. _YES!_

"Oh God, I love you too! You're not mad?" I marveled, my words tumbling out one after the other. "_Why_ aren't you mad? I thought you'd be upset with me and furious with Ranger."

"Not really, because I'm not surprised by a single thing you've said. I've been telling you all along that Ranger's in love with you. It makes sense he'd see this baby as a chance to stay connected with you somehow."

_Huh. Who knew honesty would get such a positive reaction? What had I been missing out on all of these years?_

Joe still had his face next to mine, and I marveled at the look of love on his face. I wanted to jump every bone in his body, but _my_ body was so tired I don't think I would have had the strength to do it even if he said yes.

"What are we going to do?"

"_You _are going to go home and go to bed after you've had a snack of some kind," he tapped my cheek lightly. "I have a name of an attorney that we contact tomorrow about the paternity suit, but right now I have to get back in there." He jerked his head in the direction of the building. "I need to get a handle on what that guy was doing in your apartment."

"Okay."

I didn't want to leave him. Better yet I wanted him to come home and go to bed with me—first to take a nap and then to make love all the rest of the day and evening. Instead I was going to have to settle for the knowledge we'd just made a HUGE step forward toward healing our marriage.

Joe seemed reluctant too. Kissing me several more times, he finally pulled back again to smile at me. "I'll be home as fast as I can, but it might be late. Be sure to eat, okay?"

"I will. Be careful."

"Always," he tossed back cockily. "I love you, Cupcake." Opening the door, he climbed out of the SUV.

"I love you too!" I managed to sneak in before he shut the door. Thumping the hood once, he turned and headed back toward the apartment.

I couldn't resist thumping the steering wheel in response followed by a little fist pump.

_Yes! _Score one for truth!


	12. Chapter 12

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Whew, I needed a break after the last chapter, so this one is much lighter, although it's still moving the story along. :-)

As always, thanks to Julie, my powerhouse Beta reader, for her keen eye and great ideas.

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Last month when Joe had given me the ultimatum about our relationship I'd barely slept for an entire week while obsessing over whether I wanted to commit to him or not. At the time, I remember thinking I'd never been so tired in all my life and had been barely able to function on a daily basis. Clearly _that_ feeling of fatigue was NOTHING compared to the overwhelming exhaustion my body felt now as a result of my pregnancy. Of course—come to think of it—I'd been pregnant then too. I just hadn't known it yet.

Somehow I'd made it home after leaving Joe at my apartment. After taking one of the widows' casseroles out of the freezer to thaw, I'd practically crawled upstairs, changed into the old Trenton TPD t-shirt Joe had given to me and climbed into bed with Bob on my heels. I probably would have slept straight through until morning had he not awakened me around nine o'clock. Evidently he'd come home and stuck the casserole in the oven. Not even bothering to chastise me for not eating earlier, he'd fixed a tray for me to eat in bed, coaxing another Zofran into me as well.

I'd tried to rouse myself enough to talk with him. Additionally, I'd had pretty high hopes we'd finally be able to make love again, but instead it had taken everything in me just to stay awake long enough to eat. Joe hadn't seemed too concerned. His own mind had been a million miles away—probably thinking about the dead guy in my apartment. Finally, he'd taken the tray away with a promise to be right back. And that's the last thing I remembered before succumbing to sleep once more.

* * *

I awakened with a start on Wednesday to the sound of Joe's alarm going off.

6:30 a.m.

_It was morning already? _Stretching slightly, I realized I'd missed my chance to talk with Joe. Worse yet, I'd missed the opportunity to see if he was ready to do _more_ than just talk. _Damn!_

Turning off the alarm, Joe rolled back over to pull me snuggly against him. His warm hand ran along my thigh and up over my waist to slip beneath the hem of my t-shirt and rest protectively over my abdomen. I could feel his usual morning erection pressing into my lower back, so I tried wiggling closer.

"Mmmm…don't tempt me," Joe groaned sleepily near my ear. "You feel so good, Steph, and I don't want to get up."

Reaching behind me to boldly wrap my hand around his hardened length, I turned my head slightly and was relieved to note I wasn't immediately assaulted by morning sickness. It was still pitch black outside, and our bedroom was dark as well, making it difficult to see his face. Yet I heard his sharp intake of breath at my daring move.

"I think you're already _up_," I said in my most seductive voice.

"I meant up out of bed."

"Don't get up," I whined pathetically like the sexed starved woman I was. "I miss having you inside me." Then remembering my promise not to push him, I immediately backtracked. "Sorry. I mean—"

I moved to release him, and Joe quickly covered my hand with his own. "Don't be sorry," he murmured, squeezing my fingers. "I miss being inside of you too. But I have another early morning meeting."

"How early?" My own body was more than ready. Subconsciously I shifted my hips to bring the tip of his shaft right next to my opening.

Joe breathed through gritted teeth. "Seven. Jesus, that feels good, but I really have to go."

I tried to pull him closer. "We'll hurry."

After one more thrust of his hips, he gently removed both of our hands and shifted the lower half of his body away from me.

"I don't want to hurry."

Tangling his fingers in the curls on the side of my head, he leaned in for a slow, languid kiss. "After what we've been through the past few days, I don't want some kind of morning quickie. I want to show every inch of your beautiful body how much I still love it and you—more in fact after your honesty yesterday."

I still couldn't get over how telling Joe directly about what had happened at the DNA lab had brought about so much apparent healing for him.

"I haven't necessarily forgotten the pain your lies have caused," Joe continued, sensing my thoughts, "but I think I'm ready to try and move past it."

"You are?" There was no way he could see the smile on my face in the dark, but happiness was equally evident in my voice. "Does this mean you've forgiven me?"

He kissed me again and gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. "No doubt I'm a goddamned fool when it comes to you, Cupcake, but—yeah—I've pretty much forgiven you. Truth is I miss _us_. You showed me yesterday you're willing to try and be completely honest with me, so it seems cruel not to at least try and trust you again."

"Thank you," I sighed against his cheek, dizzy with relief and gratitude. "I won't let you down."

"Of course you will," he said seriously. "And I'll let you down at times too. It's bound to happen, but as long as we're willing to keep trying, we'll be okay."

"And the baby?"

"Nothing's changed there. I'll love it and you no matter who provided the sperm," he pledged. "Speaking of paternity, when I have a break this morning, I'll put a call in to James Stokes, the family law attorney I found yesterday. I talked to the DA, and he said Stokes is the best in the area."

I shivered instinctively at all of the things that could go wrong with this paternity suit, and Joe moved further away, misinterpreting my reaction. He thought I was going to be sick again. "Are you going to be okay here on your own?" he asked. "How are you feeling?"

I assessed my stomach. "Better." Thinking about it some more, I added, "Hungry."

Tugging the covers down, he put his mouth next to my belly. "Psst…Baby M. Hear that? Your mommy's hungry. Be good for her today, okay? She could use a break. I love you both more than anything else in the world. I'll see you tonight." Brushing his lips against my skin, he stretched upward to kiss me once more. "The Zofran must finally be kicking in."

My eyes had filled as a result of his tender words to the baby. Clearing my throat, I said, "It's making me _so_ tired though. It ticks me off, because I really wanted to talk with you last night."

"You needed the rest," he assured me. "I know you're frustrated with the morning sickness, but it'll get better soon, I promise. Try and sleep as much as you can today. I'll bring dinner home, and then we can talk all you want tonight while we pass out candy."

"Pass out candy?" I repeated stupidly and then rolled my eyes. "Oh Jeez—that's right! Today's Halloween, isn't it? How could I forget? It's one of my favorite holidays! God, I'm completely out of it," I sighed, annoyed with myself. "But wait—won't you have to work late again tonight? All the crazies will be out in full force."

"Huh-uh—I'm not scheduled, and I doubt if I'll get called in. I've got to be on top of my game for court tomorrow morning, so I'll be home early. I'll stop and pick up some candy too."

"I can do it," I offered hastily, adding a little glumly, "It'll give me something to do." I still hadn't quite accepted the fact I no longer had a job as a bounty hunter.

Sensing the direction of my thoughts, Joe said, "We'll talk about your job tonight too. Try not to worry; you'll find other work soon." He must have noticed the time, because he swore and climbed out of bed. "I _really _don't want to go, but I've got twenty minutes to take a shower and get to the precinct for this meeting."

He hustled out of the room, and soon I heard the shower running. Now that I was awake, my brain was racing with questions, and my stomach was actually growling with hunger pains. Slowly easing out of bed, I waited for the nausea to kick in. Although it tickled in the back of my throat, I really didn't have the urge to get sick. _Yes!_

Slowly I made my way down to the kitchen where I was assaulted by the sound of silence. _Would I ever get used to not hearing Rex running on his little wheel?_ It had only been a couple of days, and I still missed him terribly. Turning on the single light above the stove, I pulled out a loaf of bread, thankful when Bob was at my side looking for a handout. At least I still had one pet to lavish attention upon.

Ten minutes later, Joe came rushing down the stairs, buttoning a forest green shirt over a cream-colored thermal Henley. His hair was still damp and curly, and he looked so ruggedly handsome I wanted to eat him up. Waiting for him to shrug into his brown leather jacket, I handed him a toasted peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich. In the dim light of the kitchen, he smiled at my effort.

"Thanks," he said, kissing me once more. "You probably have a ton of questions about what happened at your apartment yesterday, but I seriously have to go. I promise to tell you everything I know tonight, plus we'll finally talk about what else that's been going on in our lives, including the conversation you had with Angelina on Monday. I haven't forgotten about it or the fact you need to be updated on Tony as well."

"Any word on him or Paul?"

"Nothing."

"Where could they be?"

"Hell if I know. They better not try anything stupid though. Tony's preliminary hearing is Monday, and he's already in deep shit."

"Can I ask one more quick question?" I asked hurriedly. "Have you identified the dead guy at my apartment yet?"

Joe took a bite of the sandwich and nodded. "Name's Louie Nagel. He's a mid-level drug dealer over in Newark."

"Newark?" My voice reflected my surprise. "What the hell was he doing in _my _apartment?"

"Not sure, but I'm working on it," Joe confirmed. "And I'm not just trying to feed you a line of bullshit. I really _don't _know much of anything yet, but I'll tell you when I do." He grabbed the keys to my truck. "Got to go, Cupcake. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," I put my hand on his backside with every intention of pushing toward the door, but found myself leveraging him closer to me instead. Giving him one last kiss filled with promise, I smiled cheekily. "Have a good day, _honey_."

Joe snorted. "Thanks _dear_. You too. Thank you for making me breakfast. You're _such_ a good Burg housewife."

I tried to scowl, but started laughing instead. "Kiss my ass, Morelli. I love you."

He grinned. "Love you too."

After fixing myself some breakfast and taking another Zofran, I let Bob out on his leash in the backyard and went upstairs to get ready. Unfortunately our bed called my name, and I ended up sleeping for another three hours instead. Thus it was well after eleven before I finally climbed into Joe's SUV—well technically mine now—and headed out to run some errands.

My first stops were to the Social Security and Secretary of State offices to change all of my identification to Morelli. After all of my years of fighting the commitment of marriage, I couldn't believe how excited I was to "officially" become a Morelli—Mrs. Joseph A. Morelli. The next errand was to Walmart for Halloween decorations and candy for any trick-or-treaters that might venture down Slater that night. I wasn't expecting too many, considering most of Joe's neighbors had one foot in the grave already, but better to have leftovers than not enough candy. Of course with me around, Joe wouldn't have to worry about having candy left to spoil. More likely we'd be lucky if it lasted until morning! I'd just left the store when my cell phone rang.

_Lula._

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, juggling the phone and the shopping bags on my hip while trying to open the door to my vehicle. "Bored without me already?"

"Gawd, yes. When you comin' back, Girlie? Ain't you better yet?"

"I doubt if Vinnie would take me back, but even if he did, it couldn't be until after the baby is born."

"Well when's that?" Lula demanded in a grouchy voice. "Cuz I can't take this shit without you."

It dawned on me I had no idea what my due date was. Dr. Hamilton hadn't told us. "I haven't a clue," I murmured dazedly, feeling a moment of sheer panic. "Doesn't that seem like something a mother should know? But I don't." _One more strike against why I shouldn't be allowed to procreate. I didn't even know how to figure out a due date!_

"_Hunh! _What kind of sorry ass doctor you going to anyway? Doesn't even tell you when you're gonna pop? I'd sue if I were you."

"It's bizarre," I agreed, ignoring her derision. "I guess I'll have to call the doctor's office and ask. I do know he said bounty hunting has to be off my to-do list for the foreseeable future."

"But you _are_ comin' back afterward, right?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "I think I'm ready for a new challenge. I'm tired of the chase."

"Better not let Vinnie hear you say that," Lula warned, dropping her voice. "He won't admit it, but he's already in deep doo-doo without you working. It was okay last week when Ranger's men were in charge, but now he's only got me. And while I may be good, I ain't _that _good."

I managed to keep from laughing. "You're one of a kind to be sure," I assured her. My tone turned decidedly sarcastic, "Vinnie's just going to have to hire someone else—that's all there is to it. What about Joyce?"

"Fucking A—" Lula shouted, blasting my eardrum. "Do you hate me or something? I ain't workin' with that skank, although Vinnie might be desperate enough to do it. He's already got a stack of files a foot high and no one to work. He's talkin' about having to hire some of Ranger's men again until he can build up his own staff."

I felt a twinge of guilt for having left Vinnie in the lurch but quickly got over it. "So why aren't you out working?"

"I will. I will. I just need some fortification first. Want to grab some fried chicken?"

While the Zofran was helping to alleviate the constant nausea, the last thing I felt like eating was greasy chicken. Thinking of my meal yesterday, I suggested, "How about the deli near the office?"

"_Deli!_" She said it like a profanity. "Why the hell you want to eat at a deli? Last time I ate at a deli, I had bad potato salad. And I don't need _that_ kind of action again. I need to be in tiptop form for Tank tonight. He likes me bulked up and beautiful, you know."

I quickly shoved the image of Tank and Lula in bed together FAR from my mind. "It's the deli or nothing."

"Oh _fine_. Meet you there in fifteen."

"Right."

I was at the deli within five minutes and quickly found a place to park in a small alley behind the place. Deciding to go in and find a table, I was surprised to find two of my four new sister-in-laws already seated in a corner booth. Angelina and Adrienne were huddled across the table from one another, their heads bowed over matching bowls of soup and their mouths moving nonstop.

Dropping my purse onto a nearby table, I made my over to their booth. Adrienne was the first to notice me, and her eyes grew wide. "This is a surprise. Look who's here, Angelina—it's Stephanie. "Hi Steph."

I couldn't see Angelina's facial response, but her shoulders were hunched and her body was tense as I moved in even closer.

"Ladies," I greeted a little self-consciously. I'd only been a Morelli for eleven days. It wasn't like I was part of the insider's club yet. "I'm surprised to see you without the kids."

Angelina turned to assess me with her exotic-looking eyes. "Good to see you again, Steph," she acknowledged somewhat nervously. "The kids are all with Mrs. Morelli this morning. She does this once a month for all us girls, so that we get a chance for some "me time"."

I nodded my head. "Nice." Deciding to take the bull by the horns seeing as Joe was okay with people knowing about my pregnancy, I added, "I hope she'll offer me the same privilege. I'll be needing her assistance in about seven months."

Both women looked at me speculatively but didn't smile.

"You're pregnant?" Angelina finally stated the obvious. "Huh. Joe must be thrilled. He's always wanted a baby."

"Um…congratulations," Adrienne offered awkwardly. "You and Joe are certainly living a whirlwind fairytale, huh? First a big wedding—now a baby. Lucky you."

Somehow I didn't get the impression she actually meant the sentiment. _What was going on? _I barely knew Adrienne, so there was no telling what her attitude might mean, but Angelina had seemed genuinely thankful I'd stopped to talk with her the other day. She'd been so forthcoming about the Morelli's past and about her marriage to Tony. Why was she being so distant—almost cold? It felt as though a wall had been erected between us.

I decided to take a different approach. "Adrienne, Joe's been trying to reach Paul since we got back from the honeymoon. Any idea why he won't return those calls? For that matter—have either of you seen him or Tony? They both seem to have disappeared."

Adrienne looked like a petrified mouse. I swear if she'd had whiskers, they would have been twitching. "Um…as far as I know, he's working. He's been doing that a lot lately."

"Okay, but doesn't he ever come home to shower or sleep? Is Tony staying with you guys too?"

She shared a look with Angelina, who quickly came to her rescue by saying, "I thought he was staying at your old apartment. That's what you told me the other day anyway."

"That didn't work out," I shrugged. "The terms of his bond agreement state he can't drive, so there'd be no way for him to get around without either Joe or me shuttling him. Besides we were afraid he'd go AWOL if someone didn't babysit him. Looks like we were right to be concerned."

"Well you can bet _I_ don't care where Tony is right now. He can rot in hell as far as I'm concerned."

_What the fuck? _This wasn't even the same woman I'd talked to on Monday. During that conversation, she'd expressed frustration over Tony's behavior but had given every indication she'd take him back once he was sober. Something was going on, and I was determined to find out what it was.

"That wasn't the question I asked, and I'm talking to Adrienne," I noted calmly. "Is Tony staying at your house? He's in serious trouble, you know, and Joe's doing everything he can to help him before the preliminary hearing on Monday."

"Joe needs to mind his own business," Angelina spoke up again. "He's not the leader of the Morelli's, and there's nothing _to do_. I told you he's a lot of things—but Tony's not a drug dealer."

_Whoa. _Talk about a shift in personality. I wasn't even sure how to proceed, but it was so obvious the two of them were hiding something. Observing Adrienne, I continued, "Where's Paul working these days? I know he and Tony both used to work at the refinery, but is Paul still there? Maybe I could talk with—"

"No!" Adrienne burst out anxiously, ignoring the glare she received from Angelina. "Steph, I know you mean well, but you need to just put all of this out of your mind and concentrate on being a newlywed and on your baby. The rest of this will sort itself out."

"Are you nuts? Nothing's going to get "sorted out" until your husbands start cooperating. Joe's trying to help, but when you leave him in the dark like this—"

"Sometimes it's best to be left in the dark," Angelina stated harshly, letting me know with her eyes that she too was remembering our conversation the other day when she'd shared about how Joe had been left in the dark regarding much of his father's evil ways. "It's a lot safer."

_What? Was she using some kind of code now to try and communicate with me? _I was completely lost and feeling more than a little worried about how all of this tied in with my husband.

"Steph, did you ever give Tony that suitcase I sent along with you the other day?" Angelina asked out of the blue.

_Now how should I answer that? _It was still in the cab of my pick-up—now Joe's pick-up, but a bizarre sense of intuition told me not to share that information with either of them.

"Sometimes it's best to be left in the dark," I repeated her phrase with a tight smile. "Tell you what—when any of the four of you get smart of enough to realize just how dangerous this game you're playing is, you contact either Joe or me. Then we'll trade information."

"Don't be stupid, Stephanie," Angelina warned. "Tony needs that suitcase."

I arched an eyebrow. "And how do you know he doesn't have it already?"

She flushed, and Adrienne's hands fluttered against the tabletop. "Steph—"

"Girlie, you can't seem to avoid trouble to save your life these days, can you!" Lula cried, barging into our powwow like a bull on a stampede. "I just heard through the grapevine about what happened at your apartment yesterday. How come you didn't tell me? What kind of shit is that—a dead man in your bed? And it ain't even Tony Morelli!" For the first time, Lula noticed with whom I was talking. "Oops! I was just kiddin' about your husband," she said to Angelina. "Steph only has eyes for one man—well at least now she does. I mean—"

"Shut up, Lula," I suggested meaningfully, but it was too late.

"What dead body?" Adrienne asked anxiously.

"You had a dead man in your apartment? Angelina chimed in, keeping a tighter rein on her emotions than Adrienne. "What's that all about? Sounds to me like you need to keep your nose in your own ugly business rather than poking it where it isn't welcome."

Lula took offense to Angelina's tone. "Say, Twiggy—"

This had gone on long enough. I wasn't about to burn bridges with Joe's family this soon after marrying him. It was time to smooth some ruffled feathers.

"You're right. I do have a lot going on in my own life, so maybe I should just concentrate on that for a bit," I smiled. "As for the deal at my apartment, I haven't a clue as to who the guy is or what he was doing there." I left it at that, hoping Lula would get the hint to drop the subject as well.

Evidently she didn't. "Morelli called Vinnie this morning to see if he'd ever had any dealings with the guy—some lowlife drug dealer over in Newark. They didn't release his name, but—"

Adrienne turned deathly pale. "Newark?"

"Enough Lula!" I chastised angrily. I was sure Joe wouldn't want all of this information floating around town, however seeing Adrienne's reaction made me curious. I'd never given a thought to the fact Tony had also been arraigned on drug charges. And why would any of this bother Adrienne so? It's not like we were talking about _her _husband. "Adrienne, is there something you know about Newark—"

Angelina immediately stood. "It was great seeing you again, Steph, but we really have to get going. Mrs. Morelli gets a little overwhelmed if the kids are with her too long." She pulled Adrienne out of her seat and brushed past us. "Good to see you too, Lula," she added before heading directly for the door.

"Well that was rude," Lula huffed. "What's their problem?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted bemusedly. "But let's get our lunch to go. I want to check something out, and you're just the person to go with me."

"I thought you ain't supposed to go chasing after anyone no more."

"This isn't chasing. It's easing my curiosity."

"Mmmm…hmmm. Remember what curiosity did to the cat," she said dryly, following me back to the order counter. "Damn, I wish some of Tank's cats would get a little too curious. We could do with a few less of them allergy magnets around his place."

We quickly placed our orders for sandwiches to go. I was proud of myself for selecting roast beef and havarti on rye. Now if I could just keep it down all afternoon. Maybe I needed some peanut butter to help coat it all in my stomach. Plus protein was good, right? "Could you smear some peanut butter on that too?" I asked the girl behind the counter. Both she and Lula looked at me like I was crazy.

"That's disgustin'!" Lula declared loudly.

"It sounds good, so leave me alone." Addressing the girl once more, I added, "I'll take one of your homemade brownies too, plus a dill pickle, an apple and a bag of root chips." There. Root chips were a source of vegetables and the apple was healthy too. If the doctor didn't want me eating the brownie, then tough shit. I _needed _that brownie!

Five minutes later Lula and I set off in the Firebird with two bags of food.

"Where we going?" she asked over a mouthful of ham and cheese on French bread.

"The refinery," I directed. "I want to see if I can track down Joe's brother Paul."

"Paul—I thought it was Tony who got arrested?"

"It was, but Paul's gone AWOL now too. I have this gut feeling he's the missing link to this whole mess with Tony."

"Do you think you should call Morelli and ask him if it's okay to be doing this?" Lula asked, being cautious for once in her life. The last thing she wanted was a cop mad at her for going on a wild goose chase with his pregnant wife.

Ignoring the whisper in my ear that reminded me of Joe's request to stay away from his brothers when alone, I soothed my conscience with the fact that Lula was with me. Technically, I wasn't alone.

"I'll call him after I have more information," I promised, feeling less guilty at the thought. Perhaps I could actually help Joe with all the turmoil in his life. That would be a wifely thing to do, right?

"Don't be thinkin' I have all day for this manhunt," Lula warned. "I have to get back to the office and help Vinnie with some of the easier skips. He's really worked up over your leaving. He's talking about shutting the whole place down and retiring to Florida."

I snorted derisively. "Vinnie's too young and too stupid to retire. He'll hire some new people soon and be back in business."

Lula shook her burgundy-colored curls. She was in complete red mode today, including a cherry red velour sweat suit that looked as though it would rip in half if it had to stretch any further over her butt and boobs. "I'm tellin' ya—his heart ain't in it. Connie's worried too. It's like he's in a depression or something."

"For crying out loud, I only quit yesterday. He can't be that far gone already. Give it some time."

By now we'd reached the outer gate of the refinery. Lula was just about to pull her car up to the little security booth when my cell phone rang. She drove off to the side and waited for me to answer.

_Joe._

Shit! I didn't want to take his call for fear he'd weasel out of me where I was, but I also knew I should talk with him in case he needed me for something in regard to either the paternity test or the dead guy in my apartment.

"Hi honey," I greeted him nervously.

Joe laughed. "What's with this "honey" crap? That's the third time in two days you've called me that."

"Well I have to call you something, don't I?" I teased. "Don't you want a cute little nickname too, pookie?"

"Joe works just fine—thanks," he responded wryly. "Where are you?"

"With Lula," I squeaked. That was the truth—just not all of it.

He didn't seem too concerned. "I've got some news on Louie Nagel."

"Yeah? What?"

"Turns out his operation in Newark's a little bigger than we thought. There's a possibility it may have tentacles in Trenton as well."

"Any idea why he was in my apartment?"

"Not completely, but we're leaning toward him being there to look for something. What the hell that would be in your place, I haven't a fucking clue. You're sure you don't know the guy?"

"Positive."

"Yeah, that's what Vinnie said when I talked with him this morning."

Remembering my conversation with Angelina and Adrienne, I asked, "Do you think there's any chance this could somehow be related to Tony's mess?"

He exhaled loudly. "The thought's crossed my mind—yes. I can't ignore the fact both situations are tied to drugs. We're looking into whether there might be a link between this Nagel character and the group Tony was arrested with last Friday night."

I took it a step further. "I don't know about yours, but my gut is telling me Paul is somehow mixed up in all of this as well."

Joe's tone sharpened considerably. "What makes you say that?"

"I'll tell you what I know when I see you tonight. We can sift through everything together."

"Where are you again?" his voice turned suspicious.

"I told you—with Lula."

"_Where_ with Lula?"

_Damn! _I'd been so close, but I wasn't about to waste my opportunity at having Joe's tentative trust and forgiveness ruined. "Outside the refinery," I mumbled.

"Which one," he clarified, although he already knew.

"The one where Tony used to work, and Paul supposedly still does. Lula and I are hoping to track him down to see if he knows where Tony is."

I waited for Joe to go ballistic. There was a l-o-n-g silence where I could hear him mentally counting to ten—or maybe twenty. Finally he said, "That's good thinking, Steph. I haven't even had time to check on it myself. Go ahead and ask all the questions you want, but promise me you'll stay away from Paul. Okay?"

_Wait. That was it? _Where was the ranting? Where were the demands to stay out? Who was this man, and what had happened to Joe Morelli? Could telling the truth _really _have transformed our relationship this much? _Hunh!_

"Okay," I agreed, still stymied by his reaction. "I guess I'll talk with you later then."

"Count on it, Cupcake. I've got some vivid plans in mind for tonight after dark. Hell, I may even have to start when it's still light out."

"Will I like these plans?"

"Let's just say these plans will leave you exhausted. You might even need a day to recuperate."

_Hoo-boy!_

A delicious shiver ran through me. _Oh, how I'd missed our flirtatious bantering_ and anything else sexual between us. "I guess I'd better go home and take a nap then."

"Better make it two naps," he noted, trying to remain serious.

"Hel—lo! I'm still sitting here, you know!" Lula spoke up loud enough for Joe to hear her as well. "And I don't need to be hearin' this newlywed shit."

For once I didn't even care what Lula heard or how she planned to tease me. She could come and watch as far as I was concerned—such was my giddiness over being in sync with my husband again.

"Be careful, Steph. Let me know if you learn anything important, otherwise I'll see you tonight," Joe said in my ear.

"Right," I let out an excited breath. _I couldn't wait!_

I was grinning like a fool when I hung up the phone. But the grin quickly turned to a frown when I noticed Lula eyeing my brownie from the deli.

"No," I said before she could even ask the question.

"Oh come on."

"No—you should have thought ahead and bought your own brownie!"

"I was too disgusted by your sandwich to even be thinkin' about dessert. Just give me half. You know you shouldn't be eatin' bad food like this anyway—being anemic and all. You need to have something to give you strength like spinach or blood or something."

"Blood! Gross!"

"I saw this crazy ass show on Discovery one night about some cult out in California that drinks blood to make their sect stronger. You could—"

"Just take half the damn brownie," I groused. _Anything to get her to shut up!_

Lula broke it into two pieces and shoved her half directly into her mouth. "WhtMorlsay?" she asked with her mouth stuffed.

I looked at her in revulsion. _There went my stomach again. _"What?"

"What did Morelli say?"

"He said to go ahead."

"Damn Skippy he did," Lula nodded. "The man's got enough problems. He needs our help."

I wanted to argue with her, but unfortunately she was right. Joe did have a lot of problems.

Sigh.

Lula pulled the Firebird up to the little security booth in front of the main gate. The elderly gentleman manning the station leaned his entire body out the open doorway and asked politely,

"You gals lost?"

Draping myself across Lula so that he could see me better, I smiled. "Hi there. I'm here to visit my brother-in-law—Paul Morelli. Do you know if he's working today?"

"Speak up," he commanded. "I'm a little hard of hearing."

"Paul Mor—el—li. Is he working today?"

"Well I don't know, little lady. There are more than seven hundred employees at this plant, and I just started working here last week. Let me see if I can find him on the computer." He stepped back inside of his hut and began fiddling with the keyboard, muttering and cursing every few moments. It didn't take long for a line of cars to materialize behind us.

"You need some help?" Lula asked the man, tapping her manicured fingers against the steering wheel.

"It's a new system," the man explained, still pecking away. "Twelve hours of training, and I'll be damned if I can navigate my way yet."

"Here, I can probably figure it out," Lula opened her door.

"No, I'll get it. Hang on a minute," the man insisted, shooing her back into the car. Meanwhile the line behind us had grown longer.

"Maybe you should just let us inside, and we'll ask the receptionist in the lobby," Lula suggested.

"Maybe you should just shut up and be patient," the man retorted crankily. "This isn't some kind of hobby, you know. This is a bona fide job." He made a point of showing us his official name badge—Marlin Henderson.

After several more excruciating minutes, Marlin finally exclaimed, "Ah-ha! Here it is—Morelli. Says here there are twenty-three different Morelli's working at this plant. Which one did you want again?"

_Good grief. _I knew Joe was from a large family, but who knew half of them worked in the same location?

"Paul."

He frowned. "Saul you say? There ain't no Saul listed here."

Leaning over Lula again, I enunciated clearly—Paul—with a P—as in Pregnant."

"Pregnant? Who's pregnant?" Looking Lula up and down, he raised his eyebrows, "Come to think of it you _do _look pregnant."

"I ain't pregnant, you old coot! We're looking for P-A-U-L Morelli. Now is he on the list or not? Jesus!"

"Paul—Paul. Got it!" He came back out of the booth and placed his forearms on Lula's open window. Staring in at me, he said, "It says Paul Morelli hasn't reported to work in five days now."

"Oh. Hmmm. I guess we won't be visiting him then, will we?" I put my palms face up as if to say, "go figure" and smiled at the man. "Thanks for your help, Marlin."

"No problem, little lady. Good luck with your pregnancy," he nodded at Lula before stepping back into his hut.

Lula shifted into reverse to turn around but quickly realized she couldn't. The line of cars behind us had blocked her right up against the gate.

"You're going to have to open the gate, so we can turn around," Lula stated the obvious to the man.

He shook his head. "No can do, Sugar. Only authorized personnel are allowed beyond the gate."

"That may be, but I can't move my car unless you open it."

Drivers were now blaring their horns impatiently.

"Marlin, could you please open the gate so we can turn _around_?" I asked, trying to sound as pleasant as possible. My own patience was waning quickly. I was tired and suddenly felt an extreme urge to pee.

"I ain't a _clown_!" He'd obviously misheard me and took offense. "I'm an official security guard. Rules are rules, Ma'am," he said stiffly. "I'll lose my job if I let you in. I got my training manual right here if you want me to show you the rule." He moved to get his book.

"But we're just going to turn right around and leave!" I protested in frustration.

It was quickly turning into a parking lot behind us. Large, beefy refinery workers were piling out of their American made trucks and shaking their fists at us.

"Do you not see the logjam you're creating?" I asked, fearful of the riot about to take place. "This is ridiculous! Just open the goddamned gate; we'll turn around and we'll leave. It's that simple."

"Authorized personnel only," the man shook his head.

"Where'd they hire you from—Idiots 'R Us?" Lula scorned. "You the dumbest assed old man I've ever met."

"Who you calling old, Fatty? If you ain't pregnant, you got no reason being that fat!"

"That's it—get out of my way! Lula's about to teach you some manners!"

It was time to take action before I had an unfortunate accident in the Firebird and Lula opened a can of "Whoop Ass" on poor Marlin. Whipping out my cell phone, I called Joe.

"Hey Cupcake, Did you find out something?"

"Yes, I found out I never want to be old, and I have to pee very badly." Quickly sharing our predicament, I advised, "You'd better send a couple of uniforms fast. I'm not sure how long before these workers try to run us over." Lula and the ancient guard were still exchanging barbs and the number of car horns blaring had increased in intensity.

I could hear the smile in Joe's voice as he responded, "I'm on it. Hold your water." How he said it without laughing I'll never know.

"Funny."

I heard him contact dispatch from his office phone, and then he was back with me. "Did you at least find out if Paul was there?"

"He hasn't been to work in five days."

"Shit. It just keeps getting worse, doesn't it? What do you suppose those two fuckheads are up to?"

"I don't know, but I think their wives are in on it too."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you more tonight. I can't concentrate right now. Where are the police? Hurry up, Joe!"

I tuned back in to Lula's tirade.

"And I'm about to show you just how big and beautiful, I am. Move out of my way, you old bag of bones, so I can get out of this car!"

"Oh Jeez. I have to go," I told Joe. "Lula's about to get into a fist fight with a potential suitor for Grandma Mazur."

Joe was totally cracking up now. "Cupcake, you never fail to make my life a little bit better, you know that? I love you so much."

"Glad I amuse you, Morelli," I retorted sarcastically.

"No, I'm serious. I can hardly wait to see you tonight."

"Hopefully I'll be in one piece and not smelling like pee," I muttered.

"I hate to say this, but you've smelled worse."

In the distance I heard sirens wailing.

"Now you're in for it, old man!" Lula shouted triumphantly.

"Thanks for the help," I said to Joe. "See you tonight."

"Count on it."

Turning in my seat, I watched two police cruisers pull up on the sides of the cars behind us. I groaned loudly as Carl Costanza and Big Dog climbed out of one car and Eddie from the other. I slunk low in my seat and prayed none of them would see me.

One day out of work, and I was still wreaking havoc in Trenton.

"What seems to be the problem here," Carl asked Marlin as he and Big Dog strolled up.

Glancing out of the side mirror, I watched Eddie begin the laborious process of getting the cars behind us to move.

"These broads are trying to gain access to the plant without authorization," the guard said, puffing out his chest. "Who knows what kind of trouble they were planning to cause. You ought to arrest the big one there. She's nothing but trouble."

"I'll give you trouble, you crazy fart!"

Carl leaned down and looked into the car, a huge grin practically splitting his face in half. "Well look who we have here—Frick and Frack. You after a skip?"

"No," I muttered. "Just looking for some information. Sorry to have troubled you."

"Shit, we live for moments like this, Steph. It makes the job a little more bearable knowing we'll run into you."

"How nice," I smiled with a clenched jaw. "Lula and I really need to be going—"

"No problem. Give us a few minutes, and we'll have you out of here." He turned his attention to Marlin once more, while Big Dog headed back to help Eddie. I heard him yell, "Hey Gazarra, you're never going to guess who caused this mess!"

* * *

"I have the worst luck of anyone on the face of the planet," I grumbled to Lula thirty minutes later. "And if I don't pee soon, I'm going to ruin the upholstery of your car."

"You better not mess up my baby, because of _your _baby. You just keep holdin' it!" Lula looked panicked at the thought of me having an accident in her precious Firebird. "And you're right; you _do _have crappy luck. Maybe I ought to be glad you ain't workin' with me no more. In fact, I think you're one big jinx. Maybe my luck will change now that I don't have your aura hangin' around me. Shit, maybe I'll become the biggest, baddest bounty hunter in Trenton—hell—New Jersey."

"Just remember what happened the last time you tried to go solo," I reminded her, shuddering at the memory of her trapped in the stairwell of Zooky Carlozo's basement for two days last month.

"I'm way better at this apprehension shit now. You should've seen me and Tank taking down people left and right last week when you was on your honeymoon."

"Be careful anyway," I advised. Waiting for the envy or disappointment to hit me over the fact I was no longer a bounty hunter, I was surprised to feel nothing but fatigue—along with a tremendous amount of pressure on my bladder.

Finally we reached the alley next to the deli where I'd left the SUV, however, as soon as Lula pulled up behind the vehicle, I swore and flew out of the Firebird before she'd even put it in park.

"Holy Shit!" I heard Lula exclaim, but I was already running in a circle around the SUV. All four tires had been slashed and the tailgate window had been shattered.

"Omigod," I let out the air I was holding in a rush. "Omigod! Joe's going to kill me!"

"Who does this kind of shit in broad daylight?" Lula wondered aloud, after she finally heaved herself out of her vehicle. "Somebody had to have seen what happened. This ain't even that bad of a neighborhood."

I wasn't listening to her. All I could think about was how Joe had given me the car _yesterday_, and I'd already damaged it. _Fuck!_

But first things first—I absolutely had to pee. Dashing into the deli, I quickly used the rest room and then asked the girls behind the counter if they'd seen or heard anything suspicious. They all agreed they'd heard the sound of breaking glass earlier, but it'd been during the lunch rush, and no one thought to go outside and investigate.

Oh how I dreaded having to call Joe again—especially over something like this. Stepping back out into the chilly October air, I realized I wasn't going to have to make that phone call after all, seeing as the man himself was standing next to Lula observing the SUV.

"There she is!" Lula shouted. "Look who showed up while you was inside, Steph."

I took one look at my husband and burst into tears.

Joe was beside me in three long strides, wrapping me in his arms. "Shhhh…Steph. It's okay. I'm not mad, I promise," he hastened to assure me. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"But…look…at what…happened," I sobbed into his shirt. "I ruined your car!"

"Well technically it's your car now, Cupcake, and it's not ruined. It's just temporarily out of commission."

For some reason that made me cry even harder. "How did you know to come?"

"Pure luck. I was down in dispatch asking Mona Meyers some questions about the call that came in yesterday from Dillon regarding your apartment when one of the business owners around here reported a vehicle that had been broken into. As soon as I heard the license plate number, I headed out the door."

"I'm so sorry, Joe."

"It's okay—really. The car can be repaired. I'm more concerned about you."

"Still—"

"Shhhh…stop crying. It's okay." I'd gotten myself so worked up that it didn't take long before I had to push away from Joe and expel my lunch into the street gutter.

"Oh Lawd!" Lula broke in, cringing at the sight of the street and me "If you all don't need me, I gotta get back to the office. Sorry about your car, Girlie."

"Thanks, Lula," I hiccupped, completely humiliated. "For your help too."

"Maybe next time you better leave off the peanut butter," she advised disdainfully. "See you around." Climbing back into the Firebird, she took off as quickly as possible.

"Come on. Let's get you home," Joe suggested, holding me at arms length. Who could blame him? I don't think I smelled my best, although he'd seen me in worse shape to be sure.

"But what about the car?" I asked wearily, now overcome with exhaustion over the entire afternoon's ordeal.

"I'll arrange to have it towed to Bucky's," he said. He pulled a stick of gum out of his pocket. "Here."

Joe retrieved my packages of candy and decorations, which had miraculously avoided being stolen, and helped me into my old truck. After putting the windows down to prevent further vomiting issues, I turned toward him and said. "That break-in wasn't a freak coincidence was it?"

For the first time I saw the anger Joe had been trying to conceal beneath his concern for me. "No, it wasn't," he agreed grimly. "Somebody obviously thinks you have something important, and he or she is willing to stop at nothing to get it back."

"And I think I might know what that something is," I noted, taking a deep breath.

He glanced sharply at me out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

Reaching behind me, I thumped my fist against the suitcase Angelina had given me the other day.

"This."


	13. Chapter 13

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Super duper thanks to my amazing Beta reader Julie for keeping me motivated and for drawing out even more from me each chapter.

Also a shout out to VMars who faithfully provides me with a comment each chapter. I wish I could thank you in person. :-)

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Joe took a quick look over his shoulder to see what I'd thumped with my fist before putting his eyes back on the road.

"What—the suitcase? What is that thing? I've been meaning to ask you about it for the past two days, seeing as I've been driving around with it all this time? Is it from your apartment?"

"No, it's Tony's. Don't you remember? After we left the doctor's office on Monday I called and told you to give it to him when you went by your mom's house to pick him up."

"Shit, that's right. When he wasn't there, I completely forgot about it."

"I ran into Angelina and Adrienne at the deli today. They were having a pretty intense looking heart-to-heart in the corner when I arrived, and they weren't too happy to see me. When I asked about Tony and Paul, Adrienne became terrified, and Angelina got downright belligerent."

"How so?"

I quickly relayed my exchange with the sisters-in-law, including how Angelina had hinted that Joe should be left in the dark about his brothers' whereabouts. I finished with, "Angelina asked me whether I'd given Tony the suitcase or not. I didn't answer her one way or the other, but she already seemed to know I hadn't. She told me Tony "needs" the suitcase. Somehow I can't imagine he _needs _underwear and socks that badly. Something else is going on."

Joe was silent for several moments while he processed everything. It wasn't until he turned onto Slater that he said musingly, "I wonder what she meant about it being a lot safer for me to be in the dark. I _hate _being left in the dark."

We still hadn't found time to talk about my visit to Angelina's house on Monday when she'd told about Rocco sexually abusing Cathy and Mary, along with how Joe had been intentionally left in the dark about much of what went on during his childhood as a way of protection. Despite being over six feet tall, almost thirty-five years old and a cop, it dumbfounded me how his family was still purposefully keeping information from him about both the past and the present.

"She was referencing something she told me during our conversation on Monday," I explained, as we pulled into our driveway.

Glancing at his watch, Joe noticed it was only three o'clock and grimaced. "I'd like to stay and hear what she had to say, but I need to go back to work for a while. I still have some prep work for court tomorrow, plus I want to see if the lab has anything for me on Louie Nagel."

"Okay—I guess it can wait a little longer," I responded reluctantly. Now that I'd made the commitment to always the truth, I didn't like having this knowledge of his sisters' past hanging over my head. I wanted to talk to him about it. "But what about the suitcase?"

Joe looked behind him again at the black carry-on and shrugged. "We can open it tonight. I don't really see anything to be too concerned about. It's probably just clothing and personal crap."

"I think you should open it now," I insisted, feeling the same gut instinct I've had countless other times when I was bounty hunting.

He rolled his eyes comically and one side of his mouth curled upward. "Much as I hate to admit it, your intuition is usually right on target, Cupcake." He gave a little sigh. "Okay, let's see what's inside the damn thing."

Hauling the suitcase from the back seat into the front, he set it on the bench between us and quickly unzipped it. I almost wished I'd kept my mouth shut once I saw what was inside. The case contained several large Ziploc bags filled with what looked like heroin and something else I couldn't easily identify. Beneath the bags were numerous photographs, papers and a spiral bound notebook.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

_To say this was not good was a fucking understatement._

Joe sat there staring at the offensive items for several anxious moments. Turning his head slightly to look out the windshield, he spoke in a barely audible voice. "I can't fucking believe this. More lies—more secrets—doesn't anyone know how to tell the goddamned truth anymore?"

He was rapidly becoming enveloped in a cloak of anger.

I winced, thinking about my own past deceitfulness, but purposefully shoved any guilt aside. That was the old Stephanie Plum. The new and improved Stephanie Morelli would never go down that destructive path again.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," I offered hesitantly. "Maybe it isn't what it looks like—"

He whipped his head back around and glared at me. "It's exactly what it looks like! Christ, there's probably twenty grand in drugs sitting right there. What the hell would Tony be doing with all this shit if he wasn't involved in it up to his eyeballs?" He slammed his hand against the steering wheel in frustration. "I tried to believe him when he kept telling me he'd been framed for that drug bust. The son of a bitch lied to me!"

It certainly looked like he had, and yet, quite honestly, I was having a hard time believing Tony would be capable of doing something of this magnitude.

"What are you going to do?"

Joe looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. "What do you mean what am I going to do? I'm going to pray I don't get stopped on the way back to the precinct carrying a suitcase filled with drugs in a truck that smells like marijuana, and turn it over to the team Chief Rogers has assigned to Tony's case."

"You can't do _that!_ For God's sake, he's your brother!"

"Well what the hell do you suggest I do, Steph? Keep it? Hide it here at the house? Wouldn't that be the icing on the cake—to have _me _go to prison, and you raise our baby by yourself."

"No. I mean—" I threw up my hands. "Shit, I don't know _what _I mean. But I can't believe Tony is dealing drugs!"

"I can't either," he muttered disgustedly. "And what about Angelina? Does she know about this? Was she ignorant of the contents of the suitcase when she gave it to you, or was she aiding and abetting?"

"For that matter—what about Paul and Adrienne?" I added. "She flat out lied to me by telling me Paul was working all the time. He hasn't been to work in five days."

Joe leaned his head wearily back against the headrest. "Where the fuck could those two idiots be? What's Paul's connection to all this?"

"Maybe we should go inside and think this through before you make any hasty decisions about the suitcase."

"There's nothing hasty about it. I _have _to turn it in. I could lose my job if I don't. Hell, _I_ could get arrested if I don't!"

"I know. I know," I retorted, flapping my hand in frustration. "Still—"

Joe reached out and stopped my hand mid-motion. Lowering his voice, he said, "I know this is hard, Cupcake. Jesus, do you think I want to incriminate my own brother? But I have no choice." His eyes looked pained at the thought.

Letting out a whoosh of air, I nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I love that you care so much about my family and me—especially after what Tony did to you the other night in our very own kitchen."

"Something just doesn't feel right," I insisted stubbornly. "I wish you'd examine the photos and the paperwork first."

Joe hesitated, as if considering the ramifications. With a clenched jaw, he agreed, "You're right. Once I turn it over, they'll never allow me the chance to see what all this stuff is. There's a box of latex gloves in the kitchen. Let me get a pair, and I'll take a look."

"Don't you want to take the suitcase inside?"

He shook his head before climbing out of the truck. "Call me crazy, but I don't want that thing in our house. Wait here and watch the bag, okay?"

He strode quickly to the door, but ended up standing there for several long minutes looking at the door handle. I couldn't tell if he was examining it or debating whether he should go inside or not. Finally he went in and came back moments later with the latex gloves.

"What was the deal with the door?" I asked as soon as he climbed back in.

"Someone tried to break into the house," he responded grimly. "The lock's been jimmied."

My heart jumped. "Has our place been ransacked too?"

"No. My guess is whoever it was heard Bob and got nervous. I was debating on whether I should wait and have someone come out and dust for fingerprints, but we didn't find any at the apartment yesterday, so I figured why bother. Obviously, whoever's been doing the break-ins used gloves."

"So if I'm right about the suitcase being the reason my apartment and your SUV got broken into—which obviously I am—it has to be Tony who did it, right?" I asked dazedly. I couldn't bring myself to believe what my mouth was saying. "And he can't drive, so Paul must be helping him get around."

Joe had already slipped on the gloves and was carefully examining the photographs. "Most likely," he murmured quietly.

I swallowed hard. "But what about Louie Nagel? How did he end up dead in my apartment? Why was he there in the first place? Why would Tony be mixed up with a guy like him? You don't think your brother could really kill someone, do you?"

Joe didn't respond. He was busy thumbing through the spiral bound notebook.

"Joe?"

"Hmmm?"

"I asked you a question. _Do _you think Tony is capable of murder?"

He glanced up at me. "I would never have believed it, but I'm holding the link right here in my hands. This journal shows a direct connection between the group Tony's messed up with here in Trenton and Louie Nagel's operation in Newark. Just from the little I've read, the whole business is outlined in black in white. There's enough information in the notebook alone to put all of them away for years if not life."

I jerked backward in shock. "No! Oh God, poor Angelina—the kids—omigod, Joe—your _Mom!_"

My husband was still carefully picking his way through the suitcase. "I've only skimmed the surface. These documents have to be scoured thoroughly. The only good bit of news is the fact that finding Nagel's name in here will give me the right to examine the evidence right along with the team assigned to Tony's case—that is unless Rogers pulls me from the Nagel investigation now that he knows there's a connection."

"You can't let that happen. I still say there's more to this. I refuse to believe your own brother would go against everything _you _believe in and fight for every day. There has to be a mistake."

"I don't see how it could be. This evidence is damning." Joe sought my gaze once more, his own eyes filled with misery. "I have no idea how late I'll be tonight. A lot will depend on what Rogers says."

I rushed to reassure him. "It's okay. Don't worry about me—I'll be fine. I just want to go in and take a nap right now, and then maybe later pass out some candy to the two or three trick-or-treaters we're likely to get on this geriatric street of ours."

"There's no way I'm leaving you here alone," he informed me firmly.

"Why? You said it yourself. Bob scared Tony off this morning, so he—wait—" I stopped and looked wide-eyed at Joe. "Tony _knows _Bob. The dog would never have scared him off. So it _can't _be Tony who's doing the break-ins!"

Joe held up his hand. "I've thought of that already too, but don't get your hopes up. A neighbor might just as easily have seen Tony and spooked him off. The point is I'm not taking any chances with you and the baby. Run in and get what you need, and I'll drop you off at your mom's house." Seeing the stubborn set of my jaw, he hastened to add, "Please, Cupcake. I can't handle the additional stress of worrying about you too. Your mom will have more trick-or-treaters anyway."

He was right. _Why was it still so hard for me to give up my stubborn, independent streak?_

"Oh, all right," I groused.

I took the time to freshen up after having gotten sick outside the deli, but within ten minutes, we were already pulling up in front of my parent's house. We'd left Bob at our place just in case someone came back after dark to try and break in. As "ferocious" as he was, he'd probably _lick_ the intruder to death!

"Any idea how long you'll be?" I asked, observing how tired and stressed Joe looked. I was reminded once again that our lives had been filled with nothing but nonstop angst since returning from Barbados three days ago.

"I'll be back to get you as soon as I can," he promised. "I've got to be ready for those court proceedings. I'm scheduled to do quite a bit of testifying against the officers involved with the Kennard Case both tomorrow and Friday."

"But what if the paternity test results come back during that time?" I questioned anxiously. "We're going to want to see the doctor as soon as he has them. What if you're in court?"

"Well then let's hope they come in when the judge has declared a recess." he smiled wanly. "My bet is they won't be ready until Monday anyway. Dr. Hamilton said it would take up to five days, remember?"

"I wish it were right now!" I growled in frustration. "All this waiting and wondering is driving me crazy."

Joe leaned over and pulled me into his arms. "I know," he spoke softly against my ear. "Me too. I haven't even had a chance to call Jim Stokes about representing us in court. I'll try to do it yet today."

"Tomorrow's soon enough," I responded with a small smile. "One crisis at a time, Morelli."

He exhaled slowly. "Right. I'm sorry our big plans for tonight are getting ruined."

"Not ruined—postponed," I amended, turning my head to run kisses along his jaw line. "I love you."

"God, I love you too, Stephanie—so much." He sought my mouth, meeting my tongue with his own. After a heated kiss, he pulled back and said huskily, "Despite all of this bullshit surrounding me, I feel a thousand percent better knowing you and I are regaining at least a little of what we had in Barbados."

"Me too," I agreed, pressing my forehead against his. "I know it's going to take time to regain your trust, but I hope one day you'll believe I'm not going to lie to you ever again."

He ran his index finger in a gentle line down my cheek. "I want to believe you, Steph—no—make that I _need _to believe you, because it's about the only thing I have keeping me going right now."

I gave him one last, lingering kiss. "Good luck with Rogers. I'll see you later."

He nodded. "Tell your parents and Grandma Mazur I'm sorry I couldn't stop in."

Grabbing my bag and my sacks of candy, I hopped out of the truck and made my way up to the door. As soon as I let myself in, I heard Joe tap the horn and take off.

"Anybody home?" I called out, shutting the door and setting my things down on a stand in the front entryway. "Mom? Dad?"

My mother came rushing out of the kitchen. "Stephanie! What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

Deciding it would be best not to worry her with the reason for my unexpected visit, I smiled. "I'm fine. Joe has to work late, so I asked him to drop me off. Thought maybe I could have dinner and pass out candy with you tonight."

She looked pleased. "Of course. We're having pot roast though. Will that agree with your stomach?"

"I won't know unless I try. I definitely could use a nap right now though. I'll take another Zofran before dinner, and hopefully I'll be fine."

My family was not big into physical demonstrations of affection, so it was a huge surprise when my mother walked over and wrapped her arms around me. "I still can't believe my baby is having a baby."

It felt surprisingly comforting to be in her embrace, and I realized how often I had both intentionally and unintentionally pushed her away in the past, simply out of rebellion against "The Burg".

Feeling hormonal and insecure again, I admitted in a timid voice, "I'm scared, Mom." I wasn't even referring to the paternity test. I was talking about motherhood in general. "What if I can't do it? What if I can't be a good Mom like you or Mrs. Morelli?"

"You're going to be a fabulous Mother," she stated fiercely. "Once you see your baby's face for the first time, you'll instinctively do everything within your power to make things right for him or her."

"But—"

"Hush. I know Angela and I worry and get on you about things, but that's just our old-fashioned notion about motherhood. I've been thinking about it all day while doing the ironing. You and Joe will do things differently, but it doesn't mean it won't be as good—_or_ for that matter better than what Angela or I did. It'll just be right for your family."

That statement made the tears I'd been holding back start to fall. I was halfway tempted to spill everything to her about the paternity test, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It was senseless to worry my family over "what ifs" when we'd know the actual answer sometime in the next few days.

Sniffling, I tried to regain self-control by pulling away and wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket. "Where are Grandma and Dad?"

"Your father is out in the cab." She then rolled her eyes. "Your _grandmother _is with Loretta. It seems Loretta's daughter is driving them to a Halloween party this evening."

"That sounds like fun," I observed cautiously, noticing the set of my mother's jaw.

"_Hunh! _She's dressed like a Dallas Cowboy's Cheerleader, Stephanie—complete with boots, tassels and a bare midriff. Do you know what it's like to see your _elderly _mother's slack-skinned stomach hanging out over a pair of micro shorts for all the world to see?"

I couldn't prevent a smile from escaping at the picture in my mind. "No, I can't." A giggle escaped, and my mother glared at me. That's all it took—soon my eyes were teary again only this time from laughter. Finally my mother relented and cracked a grin of her own.

* * *

It was after nine o'clock by the time Joe came back to get me. I'd actually had a lot of fun hanging out with my parents for the evening. After I'd taken a nice nap, we'd had a pleasant, quiet dinner. Thankfully, everything, including the meat, had managed to stay down. My mother and I then took turns passing out candy to the numerous kids that came to the door. I was completely enraptured by one little toddler dressed like a police officer. He'd reminded me of Joe as a little boy. It was hard to fathom that next year at this time, we'd be dressing our own little pumpkin to go out trick-or-treating. Surprisingly, the thought of it thrilled me.

Val and my nieces had stopped by as well. That actually worked out to my advantage as it'd given me the opportunity to share my pregnancy news with her. Naturally, she'd been rather "Valerie-ish" about the whole thing, threatening that my ass would blow up like a balloon soon enough. She'd tried to scare me with horror stories about childbirth, but I'd merely stared at her. Like I hadn't witnessed all that _and more_ when she'd given birth to my niece Lisa! I _still _had nightmares about that particular event.

By eight, my father had turned off the front porch light, as our candy bowl was empty. Sadly, I'd only been able to sneak a couple of pieces myself. Ten minutes later, I'd fallen asleep on the family room couch watching a hockey game with my dad.

When Joe placed a kiss on my forehead an hour later, I awakened with a start. He was kneeling beside the couch, brushing my hair back gently. "Ready to go home, Cupcake?"

I nodded sleepily. "What time is it?"

"About ten after nine. Here—let me help you up."

He pulled me to a sitting position and went to find my shoes, coat and purse, returning moments later with my mother in tow. She was naturally holding a bag of leftovers.

"Here's a little something for you, Joseph—in case you didn't get a chance to eat tonight."

Joe handed me my things and took the bag from my mom, leaning over to give her a light kiss on the lips. "Thank you, Helen. I _haven't_ eaten, and I'm starved."

"Oh, it's nothing." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at how she blushed at his charm and then continued modestly, "Just some pot roast and a few other things."

He winked at me, but answered her. "One of my favorites. Thanks for letting Steph hang out with you tonight too. Halloween's one of her favorites, and I would have hated to have her miss out on the fun."

"We did have fun this evening," she declared happily. It was refreshing to see my mother relaxed and enthused without feeling the need to control everything.

I nodded my head in agreement. Giving both her and my dad spontaneous hugs—which I think surprised us all, we said our good-byes and headed down the front walk to the truck. I shivered at how quickly the days were turning colder.

"We may have to break down and turn on the heat tonight," I observed nimbly before Joe closed the passenger door behind me.

Walking around to the driver's side, he climbed in, leaned over and spoke flirtatiously in my ear, "Who needs a furnace when we've got each other?"

_Hello!_

"Not us," I agreed, surprised by his light-hearted comment given how upset he'd been when he'd dropped me off hours earlier. "You seem less stressed. Did everything go okay at the precinct?"

He turned over the engine, put the car in drive and took my hand in a loose grasp. "Not really, although there was _one _piece of good news. Chief Rogers didn't pull me from the Nagel investigation."

"And that surprises you?"

"Yeah. I thought for sure he'd yank me off of it once he saw the connection to Tony's case. Instead he said he respected me for bringing the suitcase in right away and not trying to cover for my brother. Come to think of it, that was kind of weird. He never referred to Tony by name. The whole time we were examining the suitcase he kept saying "your brother" all the time. It was like he was intentionally trying to personalize the situation for me or something—I don't know."

"What all did you find in the paperwork from the suitcase?"

"Information on the entire drug operation from the Trenton end—contacts, dealings, production details—you name it." He paused, and then added with a decidedly more bitter-sounding voice. "There's even evidence the group was linked to Stryker and the whole Kennard mess."

"Are you serious? Jesus, will that nightmare ever go away," I breathed.

"It certainly seems never ending," he agreed. "The bizarre thing though is that none of the paperwork and nothing in the journal directly implicates Tony. His name isn't mentioned even one time."

"That does seem strange."

"I don't have a handle on it, but Rogers put some not-so-subtle force on me to find Tony before Monday's trial."

"No pressure there, huh."

From the glow of the dashboard, I saw that Joe was deep in thought and hadn't really caught my sarcasm.

After a few moments, he mused, "What's _really _odd about all of this though is that the four guys arrested with Tony Friday night were all friends of Paul's—not Tony's."

"You said you've busted that group before. Who are they?"

By now Joe had pulled into our driveway. Taking a flashlight from the glove box of my truck, he said, "I'll tell you in a minute. I want to check the house first before I have you go in."

I instantly bristled. "I'm perfectly capable of—"

"I know you are, Steph. Just humor me as a husband and a father-to-be, okay?"

_Oh Lord, was this what it was going to be like for the next seven months? _

Trying to remember he meant well, I let out a little huff. "Fine."

"I'll be right back. Lock up after me."

He got out, and I immediately did as he asked. Several minutes went by while he searched our place. Finally he came back and opened my side of the truck. "Everything looks clean. Come on, Cupcake. Let's get you inside. He picked up the bag of leftovers, and together we went into the house where Joe already had several lamps lit.

He immediately put an anxious Bob on his leash. "I'll be right back."

It felt so good to be in the relative warmth and safety of our own home. While Joe was out with the dog, I pulled out the leftovers and heated them in the microwave. By the time he returned, I had a plate waiting at the kitchen table.

Joe raised an eyebrow upon seeing the plate. "First breakfast and now dinner? You're frightening me, Steph. You're not going to transform into some kind of scary, domestic goddess with this pregnancy, are you? Because I'm not so sure I want that. I like you the way you are."

"I think you're safe then," I drawled sardonically.

Joe took a seat in front of the food, and then surprised me by pulling me down onto his lap.

"It's going to be a little hard to eat with me sitting here, isn't it?" I quipped.

"Nope," he replied simply.

Shrugging my shoulders, I leaned back into him and took the fork from his hand. Piece by piece, I slowly fed him, more than once sneaking a bite of my own. Joe had his arms wrapped securely around my waist and spent quite a bit of time nuzzling the skin of my neck beneath my left ear. Neither one of us said a word, but simply enjoyed a moment of relative calm in the midst of our currently stormy lives.

"It's good," Joe commented, taking another bite of meat. "It's also good to see you getting your appetite back. The Zofran must be working."

"Mmmm…hmmm. Other than this afternoon when I got sick from the stress over the car, I've been feeling a little better, although I'm still _really _tired." I picked up another piece of meat and examined it. "You know what would make this pot roast taste even better?"

Joe was running kisses along the cord on the side of my neck. "No—what?" he asked distractedly.

"If we smeared a little peanut butter on top."

Joe immediately pulled back. "That's disgusting!"

"No, I really think it would be good—kind of like a protein power meal."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"No, I want to try it," I insisted, hopping off of his lap to get the peanut butter jar.

"Cupcake, I'm giving you fair warning. You stick a piece of meat in that jar, and we're headed for divorce court. Remember the result of the_ last_ peanut butter battle."

"You're being ridiculous. Who cares if there's a little cross-contamination? It all ends up in the same place, right?"

"I care," he stared me down with those intimidating cop's eyes of his.

I gave him the evil eye right back, but obediently found a knife in the cutlery drawer. "Probably we need to start buying separate jars of peanut butter for the two of us. I have a feeling this is going to be a major craving for me over the next seven months."

"So I gathered from Lula's comment after you got sick this afternoon."

Quickly smearing the creamy goodness onto the pot roast, I shoved it into my mouth and rolled my eyes backward in delight. "Oh. My. God—it's perfect," I moaned happily.

Joe looked pained. "I'm glad I was finished eating."

Deciding a blob of straight peanut butter sounded even better to me, I found a spoon, pulled out a heaping amount and started licking it directly from the utensil. "So tell me about these guys that were arrested with Tony."

Joe leaned back in his chair and took a pull from the beer I'd given him with his meal. "Jason Meachum, Punk Malone, Eric Gambino and Buster Herrick—a group of real losers. Paul used to hang with them throughout most of high school. They were all potheads back then, including Paul. It wasn't until he met Adrienne a few years out of school that he stopped using. Once I became a cop, he distanced himself even further from them."

"You said you helped bust their outfit back when you were with Vice?"

"A few times, yeah. They were a pretty small operation back then though. I'm not sure when and how they started getting serious about all of this. Truthfully, I'm not even sure how everything fits together yet concerning the drugs. There was heroin and ecstasy in the suitcase, but they were cooking Meth when they were busted Friday night. Other drugs were found in the house too. I don't know—it's like they're trying to diversify or something."

"How does Myra Flowers fit in with the group? Did she go to high school with all of them too?"

"No, and I haven't been able to figure out her connection—other than she was supposedly having a six-week affair with Tony."

Remembering what Chickie Manack had told me, I said, "I heard from a pretty reliable source that Tony's involved with some gal named Lil Conroy. He was seen last Thursday night with her down at The Pokey."

Joe threw up his hands. "Who the hell knows? Maybe Myra was simply the one who convinced Tony to join up with Jason Meachum and the rest of them. How and why that happened, I haven't a clue."

"It does seem strange Tony would get hooked up with a group like that."

"Not necessarily. He was certainly friendly with all of them back in the day. Remember he and Paul are only eighteen months a part. I have no doubt Tony used some back then too, but not to the extent that Paul did."

"Did you ever use drugs?" I asked curiously.

He gave a slight jerk of the shoulders. "I tried marijuana in high school—but I was more into beer and chasing skirts than drugs." The wolf grin suddenly appeared. "I was pretty damn good at chasing skirts."

I arched one eyebrow. "I never would have guessed, Morelli."

He stood and moved slowly and deliberately toward where I was still standing next to the counter, calmly eating my peanut butter. "Maybe you need a refresher on my romantic skills," he suggested with a comical leer, taking the spoon from my hand and tossing it into the sink."

"It might not be a bad idea," I agreed as seriously as I could manage. "I wouldn't want you to get out of practice or—God forbid—downright rusty."

Joe lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. "Jesus, I've missed you, Steph," he rasped, all trace of playfulness removed from his voice. "I don't want to talk about Tony any more right now."

The wolf was on the prowl.

"I've missed you too," I responded urgently."

We devoured one another briefly with our eyes and then simply detonated.

"I want you so badly."

He kissed my collarbone.

"Oh God—I want you too."

My hands slid into the silky strands of his dark hair.

"Where?"

His hands cupped my backside, pressing me closer to the hardness beneath his jeans.

"Anywhere. I don't care. Just hurry!"

I squirmed, wanting desperately to feel his naked body against my own.

"Give me a minute."

He tried to move toward the stairs, but I wasn't having it.

"Too long. I need you right now."

He nodded in agreement, already fighting to control his breathing.

We made it as far as the couch in the living area where pure instinct took over. Joe had my shirt off, and I had his pants unbuttoned before his ass even hit the cushion. Quickly undoing the front clasp of my bra, he groaned appreciatively at my greatly enhanced cleavage. "Stephanie," he could barely form the word, such was his desire. Mine was equally as ferocious, and I hopped up only long enough to shed my jeans and panties.

This wasn't about love and tenderness. That would come later, but both of us felt an almost animalistic urgency to claim our mate after all of the ugliness of the past few days—to somehow push aside everything and become one soul again.

Joe shoved his own jeans and briefs to the floor, and pulled me back down to straddle his lap. Not waiting for any form of foreplay, I grabbed a hold of his manhood and slid him inside me. We both cried out at the sheer pleasure of being connected physically again.

"Omigod, you feel so good," I exhaled on a moan near his ear.

Joe pushed me back only far enough to bury his face between my breasts, lavishing attention first on one enlarged nipple and then the other. "You're beautiful," he murmured against my skin. "I can't believe how beautiful you are. You drive me crazy from wanting you—all the time."

"I want you too," I responded, pushing him deeper inside me. I was near tears at how good it felt to be connected again. "I'm sorry for everything, Joe. Please believe me. I love you so much," I spoke hurriedly, tilting his head upward with a finger to capture his gorgeous, brown eyes with my own moist gaze.

"Shh…I love you," he pledged back, and as if a switch had been flipped in him, he stilled my hips and slowed our pace. "I love you," he repeated, kissing me deeply. "I need you." Another kiss and Joe's eyes stared lovingly into mine. "I forgive you, Stephanie."

My breath caught in my throat, and the floodgates opened. _Oh God! _I hadn't even realized how badly I'd needed to hear those words from him.

"Don't cry," he soothed, shifting his hips to plunge even deeper. Using his fingers to wipe away my tears, he kissed me again.

"Thank you," I could barely speak through the emotion in my throat. "I swear I won't lie to you again."

"And you've told me everything, right?" He was still moving steadily beneath me, slowly stoking the fire within us both.

"Yes," I vowed. "No more secrets."

"Then we start again tonight. Right here—right now. What was it you told me on our wedding night? You said you felt clean again, remember?"

"You did make me feel clean that night, but even then I was lying to myself. I wasn't completely cleansed. There were still too many things I hadn't confessed to you. I'm just sorry it took finding out I was pregnant to make me do the right thing."

He shook his head. "No more regrets. No more guilt. We're moving on from here—together—stronger—better than ever." His hand reached between us to assuredly stroke my clit. "I'll always look back on our wedding night as one of the best nights of my life, but tonight is when we finally commit to one another in complete honesty."

"Yes," I agreed, closing my eyes in response to the pleasure he was evoking.

Just as he had the night of our wedding, Joe urged me on, quickening the movement of his fingers. "Eyes open. See how much I love you."

Forcing them back open, I could feel the first tentacles of orgasm beginning to spread through my system. "Joe," I inhaled.

His voice became more guttural, and his movements more frenetic. "I'm yours, Stephanie."

"And I'm yours," I echoed right before my body imploded. "Unnhhh," I cried out, the sheer pleasure causing my head to drop back and my mouth to fall open.

Joe's hands were back on my waist, holding me in place while he ground against me. "Oh God," he shuddered, as his own orgasm overcame him. Rocking against me, he rode the wave until I collapsed against his chest. I was still wearing my bra and my socks, and he still had on both of his shirts. What we'd lacked in finesse, we'd certainly made up for in intensity. I wanted to crawl inside his body and be a part of him forever, such was the depth of love and gratitude I felt toward him.

Neither of us was capable of speaking for the longest time. My head was tucked between his shoulder and head, with my lips pressed against the base of his throat. Joe lightly ran the tips of his fingers over the skin of my back, causing delicious sensations to hum through my system.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Morelli. My arms have missed you."

"They'll never have to miss me again," I promised, wrapping my own arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely. "Thank you—for everything."

"Mmmm…that goes both ways," he smiled, kissing the tip of my nose. His eyes took on a playful shine again. "We'd better get you upstairs. I think your breasts need cleaning."

I pretended to be shocked when I looked down. "My God—you're right. How could I have not noticed this?"

"It's because they're so big. It'll be awfully easy to miss the hidden spots now that you're pregnant," he answered seriously, but his eyes were still glinting. "Probably it's a good thing you'll have me around to help."

"Whatever would I do without you?" I pretended to swoon.

Heaving us both up off of the couch, he kicked our clothing aside and headed for the stairs. "You'll never have to know, Cupcake."

After a long shower, where we took our time pleasuring one another, Joe made short work of taking out Bob one last time, while I finished getting ready for bed. It was almost eleven o'clock, and I knew he had to get up early to be at the courthouse on time. Not too much later, he entered the bedroom carrying a carton of yogurt in his hand.

"Hungry?" he asked, handing me the container.

While I couldn't help but turn up my nose at his choice of a snack, I accepted it eagerly. Now that I wasn't feeling as though I was going to hurl every second of the day, my body seemed to be making up for lost time. "Thanks."

Joe walked around to his side of the bed and crawled in beside me. "No problem. I'm just happy you're beginning to feel a little better. It was starting to scare me how much you were getting sick."

I smiled at his concern. For a moment, a wave of despondency swept over me as I remembered the paternity test. I'd never wanted anything more in my life than to have this baby be Joe's. He must have sensed the direction of my thoughts, because he reached out and placed his hand over my abdomen. "It's going to be okay, Stephanie. Regardless of the outcome, we'll _make_ it be okay. If we can get through the last three days intact, nothing is going to separate us. I promise."

Setting the yogurt aside, I slid down beneath the covers and rolled into "my spot" with my head against Joe's shoulder and my arm wrapped around his waist. "I hope so."

"That reminds me. I talked to Jim Stokes late this afternoon. He said he'd take the paternity case if it became necessary. But he said since we're pretty much in the driver's seat, we don't have to do anything unless the test proves Manoso is the father."

I nodded without response.

"I also talked to Richard Samuelson, Tony's attorney, on the off chance Tony had made contact with him. He said he hasn't heard from him since he met with him at my mother's house on Monday morning. After I told him about the suitcase, he was naturally as concerned as I am, although he managed to control his emotions better than I did."

"Have you talked with your mom?"

His voice lowered. "No. Frankly, I'm afraid it'll destroy her. She's endured so much over the years, Stephanie."

His words reminded me once more of the horrors his sisters had suffered as well, and I wondered if Mrs. Morelli had been aware of what her husband had done to their daughters. I couldn't imagine any mother standing by and allowing such atrocities to occur against Valerie and me, but then none of us had ever walked in Mrs. Morelli's shoes. Who knew what torture she herself had been forced to endure?

I opened my mouth to tell Joe about my conversation with Angelina, but quickly shut it again. It was late, and I didn't want him agonizing all night over something he couldn't fix right before having to testify in court.

Unfortunately, Joe read my mind again, for his next words were, "Tell me about your visit with Angelina on Monday. It's only been _two_ days since it actually happened! Maybe the real world will hold off for another few minutes, so you can finally tell me about it."

_Dilemma! _I knew he needed sleep, but I was also hell-bent on not keeping anything from Joe ever again. He nudged my leg with his knee. "Tell me, Steph."

Clearing my throat, I said, "Um, she was pretty forthcoming about her relationship with your family. She told me about how she and Tony got together and about how she came to find out about the abuse your father inflicted upon him for so many years. She said it was five years into their marriage before he even mentioned your father's name to her."

"No kidding?" I could tell he was stunned.

"I know. It shocked me too."

I went on to share Angelina's story about Tony's meltdown when she'd tried to give their son Gio a spanking. "She said she was telling me everything to give me a better understanding of how your family works, because she wished she'd had that kind of knowledge when she first joined the group. I guess Mary and Cathy weren't too welcoming of her, and you were off saving the world as a rookie."

He snorted. "Yeah, I was pretty intense back then."

"Back then?" I repeated facetiously.

His hand was cupping my bottom, and he gave it a little pinch. "Smart aleck. What else did she say?"

This was the difficult part. Taking a steadying breath, I slid my hand from where it rested upon his waist up over his stomach to his heart. "She confirmed what you've suspected for years regarding your sisters."

I felt Joe's heart thud beneath my fingers. "What do you mean," he asked cautiously, no doubt trying to think he'd misunderstood me.

"Your father sexually abused them, Joe—repeatedly."

He didn't move a muscle beside me. It was like he'd turned to stone other than the driving pulse of his heartbeat still pounding beneath the palm of my hand.

"Christ Jesus," he finally whispered, almost to himself. "I _knew_ it." He took a long time before continuing, "How did Angelina hear about it?"

"Tony told her. Evidently he tried to deflect attention away from them as much as possible by taking even more physical abuse from your father."

"My mother knew though obviously."

"Yes, I believe so."

"And Paul?" I heard the initial hint of desperation.

"Yes."

"They all talked about it freely, but just not to me—right?" he was trying so hard to remain detached and failing miserably.

"Angelina said it was to protect you. They all felt you were so young—too young to understand the horrors your father was afflicting."

"But I _did_ know what was happening, goddamn it!" he lashed out for the first time. "At least I thought I did. I may have been young, but I had eyes and ears, didn't I? I could hear the door to the girls' room squeak open in the middle of the night and their frantic whispers of "No Daddy" before the door closed behind him. I'd see Tony—or sometimes Paul—being dragged through the house and out to the garage where the walls would practically shake from the force of them being slapped around. Did they think I didn't hear their cries of agony? Did they think I didn't see my mother's futile efforts to deflect the attention onto her? My father _knew _how much it hurt her to see him harm one of us. That's why the son of a bitch _did _it!"

"They only did what they thought was best," I tried awkwardly to rationalize their decisions. "You were only a little boy."

"Bullshit. They didn't trust me."

"That's not true. You're thinking of this from an adult's perspective and using the hurt I caused you to cloud your judgment."

"Don't tell me what I'm doing or thinking or feeling. You weren't there. You _don't_ know!"

He sat up, his chest heaving from building anxiety. Gently I placed my hand on the skin of his back. "I'm not trying to hurt you. You asked me to be honest."

"I picked a hell of a subject to have you start with, didn't I?" he gave a short, condemning laugh. "Even if they'd felt I needed shielding as a kid, I'm certainly not a child any longer! Any one of them could have said something to me." He shook his head bleakly. "No, they've purposefully continued to keep me in the dark—alone."

I sat up beside him. "But you aren't alone, Joe. Don't you see? You'll never be alone again. You have the baby and me, and we both love you so much. And I will _always_ tell you the truth—even when it hurts one or both of us."

He turned his head and looked at me with tortured eyes. "Why won't they let me be one of them, Stephanie? Why won't my own family include me?"

I weighed my answer carefully before responding. "You have to understand this is only my supposition, but something else Angelina said has stuck with me for the past two days. She said after your dad died, your whole family did whatever it could to bury the past. Your mom tried to maintain perfect control of her surroundings. Your sisters got married and focused on their own families. Tony and Paulie took to following in your dad's footsteps. But _none_ of them ever dealt with their grief and anger over what had been done to them. They're still carrying around their secrets and scars like badges."

"But what does that have to do with them not including me?"

"I think they've always seen you as the hope of the family. They protected you so that you could go out and redeem the Morelli name by being hard working, honorable and someone respected within the community. And you've done that, Joe. You're all of those things and more."

"Don't put me on a pedestal, Cupcake. I'm just as human as anyone else with the same gross failings. You have no idea how much pressure was put on me by my mother and grandmother to achieve all of the things you've just mentioned. It's why I rebelled so hard in high school. I couldn't take the constant pressure. I _wanted_ to be perceived as being just as bad as my siblings. I wanted so badly to be included in what I perceived as their secret alliance."

"I'm sure it was painful," I agreed, tugging him back down against the mattress. "But don't you realize you've been seeking the truth your entire life? It's what defines you. You said that to me yourself in Barbados. You feel guilty you weren't there to take the same abuse the rest of them did, and you're bitter over having had to live up to their imposed standards of how you should represent all of them. To make matters worse, they're all jealous of what you've achieved—of what _they wanted _you to achieve. The whole thing is just a sick, vicious circle."

I was shocked to feel a single tear touch my cheek where it rested next to Joe's. I'd _never _seen him this emotional in all our years together. Reaching up to gently swipe it away just like he'd done to mine earlier, I repeated my earlier statement, "You're not alone, Joe. I'll _always_ love you. I'll always tell you the truth."

His breathing was labored as he tried to maintain control, but he was quickly losing the battle. "I _hate _my father, Stephanie. I HATE him for the way he _still _has control over all of us—even from the fucking grave!"

"I know."

"It should have been me too," he rasped, practically choking on the words. "I should have been punished right along with them. How am I supposed to accept the guilt of that?"

"By knowing that your family did what they had to do to survive, including not confiding in you about their own nightmares. By believing they did it because they love you—even though they may not be showing it very well as adults right now. By trusting that in the end you've done what they expected of you. You _are _honorable. You _are _hard working, and—yes—you _are _respected." Wrapping myself around him even more, I added softly, "But mostly you are _loved_ by me and our baby."

"I love you too," he breathed against my hair. "I need you, Stephanie."

"I'm right here."

He rose over my body and once again we made love—this time slowly and languidly. Joe took his frustration, hurt and anger and somehow channeled it all into one massive exhibition of love and passion toward me. I was so thankful to be there for him after how much love and forgiveness he'd shown me the past three days.

I loved this man—more than my own life. It was as simple as that, and the realization of it truly humbled me.

We fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs. Somehow Joe had found the solace he needed buried within my body—just like he'd done so many other times over the years, usually as a result of something he'd witnessed on the job. While I couldn't swear by it, I'm pretty sure we stayed interlocked like that for the entire night.

* * *

Joe was gone when I awakened Thursday morning, but he'd left a note on the nightstand beside me, along with my pills.

_Stephanie,_

_I don't know what words to use to tell you how much last night meant to me—both physically and emotionally. You were the rock I needed. Thank you._

_I forgot to tell you Rogers and his wife want to take us out to dinner tonight to celebrate our marriage. Oh Joy—not! I feel badly you're stuck at the house all day without transportation. Let me know if you need a ride someplace, and I'll see if I can't get one of my family members to pick you up._

_Please—please be careful whatever you do today. If you're at home, keep the doors locked and your gun handy, okay? I'll be home as soon the judge releases us for the day. Text me if you hear from the doctor's office._

_I love you, Cupcake._

_Joe_

_Shit! _The last thing I felt like doing was going out and making nice with Joe's boss and his wife. What the hell was I supposed to wear for an event like that? I'd need expert advice for sure over this whole thing. Reaching for the phone next to the bed, I quickly called Mary Lou.

"Good Morning, Wonder Mom," she greeted me with her usual sarcastic cheer. _Oh, how I loved my best friend!_

"Hey. I need another favor."

"No fair! When do I get to start collecting on all these favors?" she whined half-heartedly.

"This is a fun one, I promise."

"What's up?"

"Joe and I have to go out to dinner with his boss and his wife tonight, and I need something to wear. Want to go shopping?"

"Is my middle name not "Bling"?" she responded enthusiastically.

"You're middle name is Irene, but I'm glad you're excited," I responded dryly. "Can you pick me up though? I had an incident with Joe's SUV yesterday."

After swearing her to solemn secrecy, I quickly shared with her all that had happened in the past couple of days—about the break-in at my apartment, the murder of Louie Nagel, and the destruction to the SUV—even the link between Tony and the suitcase.

"It's like a goddamned soap opera," she declared.

"I know. But the good news is that Joe has forgiven me."

"Like I didn't know _that _would happen!" she said sardonically. I could practically feel her eyes rolling through the phone. She added seriously. "That's great, honey. I'm glad for you both."

"Yeah. Now if we could just get the damn paternity test results back!"

"I know," she soothed. "Let's think about shopping instead. I'll be by to pick you up in an hour, okay?" she offered.

"Sounds good. Thanks, Mare."

After working slowly through my normal routine of breakfast, shower, hair, make-up, etc., I was standing in the bedroom slipping on a pair of boots when I heard the front door open, and Bob going berserk. Smiling to myself, I realized it was Mary Lou. She'd arrived early. And boy was I ever going to give Detective Morelli a hard time for leaving the door unlocked after having demanded I keep the place secured when home alone.

Deciding to surprise her, I took my boots back off and slipped quietly down the stairs. She wasn't in the kitchen. Had she gone into the bathroom?

I was just about to open my mouth and call her name when I turned and looked into the living area. There stood a man, bent over at the waist, with his head buried in our entertainment center.

I must have let out an involuntary gasp, because he quickly pulled out and turned to look in my direction. Our eyes met, and my heart started pounding.

It was Tony.


	14. Chapter 14

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Happy Friday! Thanks to everyone for continuing to offer me feedback as the story progresses. It's so helpful and very much appreciated!

As always, thank you to Julie for always making time to help me. Her efforts are really an important part of the story as well. I appreciate you, my friend!

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Immediately I could tell Tony was stone cold sober, and for some reason that sent a chill down my spine. My last confrontation with him, when he'd been drunk and lecherous, had not ended well. I could only imagine what he'd be capable of doing to me with a clear head.

His mouth dropped open in shock. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, taking a step toward me.

I stepped backward and found myself trapped against a wall. _Okay, don't panic, Steph. Do NOT let him see you're scared out of your fucking mind! _Rapidly, I ran through my list of options. Unfortunately, the list was too damn short. I could make a run for the door, but, more than likely, he'd catch me and perhaps punish me for attempting to escape. No, it'd be better to stay and try to outsmart him. Digging for inner strength, I found some semblance of calm before I answered him.

"What do you mean what am _I_ doing here, you idiot?" I hit him full force with false Jersey attitude. "I _live _here remember? The question is what the hell are _you _doing here? How did you get in? Where've you been for the past three days?"

"Around," he answered vaguely, ignoring my first question. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be home. Why aren't you out rounding up poor, unsuspecting citizens? Your truck's not out front."

He took another step forward.

My fear was momentarily replaced by bitter anger. "Well, gee, I wonder why, asshole, seeing as you decommissioned it yesterday!"

That put a hitch in his step. "What are you talking about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Give me a break. You did a real number on your brother's vehicle."

"Joey's?" His eyebrows shot clear up into his oily hairline. He looked as though he hadn't bathed since leaving our house on Monday morning, and from my position on the other side of the room, I wondered if he smelled just as badly.

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about!" he spat at me.

My eyes narrowed. "So what—now you're denying you slashed the tires and took out the back window of the SUV when it was outside the deli yesterday? That's lame, Tony. If you're going to be a drug pushing thug, at least be man enough to admit your actions." I had no idea where all of my bravado was coming from. Inside I was shaking like a leaf.

A light bulb finally turned on in his brain. "Joey's truck got messed up yesterday?"

"Cut the crap! First my apartment, then the SUV—now our house—how could you do this after all Joe's been doing to try and help you?"

The implication he was somehow indebted to his younger brother didn't go over well. "Shut up! You don't know shit about anything. And I sure as hell don't know what you're talking about. I've been nowhere near your apartment. Just give me the damn suitcase, and I'll be out of your hair."

He moved toward me again.

"What suitcase?" I asked innocently, peeking out of the corner of my eye into the kitchen where my gun was waiting in the cookie jar. Per usual, it wasn't loaded, but he didn't have to know that.

Tony was now only ten feet away from me "Don't mess with me, Stephanie. "I know Angelina gave you the suitcase to pass along to me. Where is it?"

"You've been in touch with Angelina? Huh. That's interesting. Last I knew you two were on the outs. Have you reconciled?"

"The suitcase!" he barked. His hands were clenched into fists upon his hips as he moved even closer.

Five feet.

"Where's Paul these days—working?" I asked sarcastically, trying to inch my way toward the kitchen counter.

_If I could just get to the cookie jar_—

Tony must have read my mind. "That's far enough, Babe. Let's not get stupid here. You don't need to pull a gun on me."

I was dumbfounded. "How—?"

"Jesus, Stephanie—how long have you been with Joey? We _all _know you keep your gun in the damn cookie jar. What I can't figure out is why the hell you think you need to pull one on me. I'm not going to hurt you. You're married to my brother for Christ's sake!" His accent was thick and pronounced.

"_Why_ would I need to pull one?" I repeated angrily, completely in awe at the change in his personality now that he was sober. "Gee, I don't know—maybe because you've forced yourself upon me twice in the last two weeks!"

"Oh for Christ's sake! You and Joey are just alike—both too sensitive for your own damned good. Like I told him, I was drunk and just having a little fun with you." His voice dropped, and his eyes became hooded. "We both know you like to have fun, don't we, Stephie?"

Three feet away.

_Now what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Was he seriously coming on to me again? Omigod, where the hell was Mary Lou!_

"Joe's going to be pissed at you for breaking into our house—not to mention the car and my apartment—but he'll _kill _you if you lay a hand on me." I tried my best to look threatening. Hopefully he couldn't see how badly my knees were knocking.

Tony scowled again. "You know, I'm getting pretty damned sick of everyone telling me about how Joey's going to react to things. He is _not _the boss of me nor is he the head of the Morelli family—I am." He stabbed his thumb against his chest. "And I haven't broken into anything." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a house key. "Joey gave me this when I stayed with him a while back. I used this to get in."

"You didn't try to break in here yesterday?" Now it was _my _turn to look confused.

"No!" he burst out agitatedly, "But if you're having this much trouble—all the more reason to give me the suitcase. I'll take it, and you can forget about _all _of this. Hurry up! I don't have much time."

"Did Paul—?"

"Stephanie—the goddamned suitcase—where is it!"

He was right in front of me now, and my suspicion was proven correct. He did smell just as bad as he looked—mostly of nerves and sweat. My nose took one whiff of him, and my pregnant stomach rolled over in response. I wasn't sure if it would be a good or a bad thing if I hurled on him, but if he didn't step away soon, we'd both find out.

His face was dark, and in my frightened state, he appeared almost sinister-like. I wanted nothing more than to get away from him. Turning toward the door, I was stunned when he wrapped his large, muscular hand around my upper left arm and yanked me back around.

Gasping, I instinctively reacted by throwing my fist, connecting with his stomach.

"Ow! Jesus Christ!" He grabbed his gut, but it was clear I hadn't packed much of a punch. _Damn it! Why hadn't I listened to Ranger all of these years and gotten myself in better shape! _"What the hell did you do that for?" he asked in irritation.

I looked at him in amazement. Was he a complete idiot? "You just grabbed me by the arm and threatened me!"

"No, I didn't," he growled. "I was trying to get you to focus. Just give me the suitcase, and I'm out of your hair."

He was in my face again. The stench from his body and breath was overpowering me, making it hard to concentrate. Frantically I tried to come up with a lie to appease him long enough to get help, but for the first time in my life, I couldn't think of a single thing that would sound even halfway convincing. What kind of bullshit was that? I was the Queen of lies! And yet I couldn't get my brain to think much beyond wanting to get away from the foul smell assaulting my nostrils.

He reached out his hands to do God only knows what, and I panicked.

"I don't have the goddamned suitcase, okay!" I shouted in exasperation.

_Uh-oh. Stupid, stupid girl._

He stared at me for a moment, looking more scared than angry. Then he snapped out of it and was furious. "Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not. I _don't_ have it."

"Well who does? Did you give it to Joe?" He put his hands on top of his head and twirled in a circle. "Goddamn it, Steph. _Tell _me you didn't give it to Joe!"

Again, I tried to fabricate an answer. _Too late! _My eyes must have given me away, because his went wild, causing me to feel even more frightened. I started moving slowly backward.

"Fuck! Did you open it? Oh sweet Jesus, at least tell me you didn't open it!"

I didn't know what to do—what to say. And again I unwittingly tipped my hand.

"Oh my freakin' God, what have you done!" he exclaimed, back to circling in front of me. He looked like Bob when he was trying to find a place to poop in the yard. "He's taken it to the police, hasn't he? That goddamned fanatical, by the book, younger brother of mine took it to the police. Now our _one_ chance of getting out of this mess has been shot to hell!"

"Joe _is _the police, you idiot," I reminded him before I could stop myself. The guy was clearly not running on all four cylinders. "And you blew your chance of getting out of this mess the day you decided to hook up with those losers from high school."

He stopped pacing to glare at me. "You know _nothing _about this, Stephanie, so shut up!"

"I know you've brought whatever the hell this mess is you've gotten yourself into upon yourself," I shot back. I'd been moving slowly backward during our exchange. Another five feet, and I'd be at the front door.

He threw his arms in the air and rolled his eyes in frustration. "Would you just stop talking for once? Jesus, you're as bad as my mother and Bella. A man can't even think!" His voice went falsetto as he imitated Mrs. Morelli. "_Anthony_, why are you going out drinking again? You should stay home with your wife and babies. If Joseph had a family,_he'd _be there for them. _Anthony_, why don't you try and get a better job like Joseph? You think you're going to amount to anything at the refinery? _Anthony_, you need to stop spending so much money on foolish things. Joseph's got such a nice nest egg built up. Why can't you be more like him?"

Tony curled his lip in disgust. "Yeah, well I got news for you, Ma, and you too, Stephie—not everyone's as fortunate as _Joseph_ to have an entire goddamned house given to him free and clear on a fucking silver platter. Some of us have to _work_ our ass off to provide for our families."

"You don't think Joe works hard?" I asked, my voice dripping with disdain. I'm not sure if it was stupidity or hormones, but my own attitude had kicked up a significant notch in defense of my husband_. _"Your brother works ridiculously hard, _Anthony_. You should show him a little respect, particularly since he's trying to save your sorry tail."

Tony's handsome features turned downright ugly. "You think I haven't done the same for him a hundred times?" His tone was low and dangerous. "You know _nothing _of what I've endured for my family, particularly my baby brother!"

He shocked the hell out of me then by whipping off his jacket and t-shirt and turning around to reveal his back to me. As soon as he did, it took every ounce of will power I had not to lose my breakfast all over the kitchen floor at the sight of row after row of raised and puckered, purple skin. The horrific scars from his father's belt began in the middle of his back and, from what I could tell, extended clear past the waistband of his blue jeans.

_Dear God—was he planning on showing me those scars too? _Where was Mary Lou already? The girl had never been late for a shopping date in her life!

Tony looked over his shoulder, saw the look of revulsion I couldn't even begin to hide and set his jaw. "You think your hardworking, law-abiding, perfect husband could do_anything _to make up for this?" he asked hotly.

I stood stock-still, afraid to do or say anything that might set him off further. My heart was practically beating out of my chest, and I forced myself to take a slow, even breath.

He turned back around and met my frightened gaze with eyes dulled by years of suffering. His voice lowered. "Tell me, Stephanie—do you think I still owe him now?"

"I—I don't know what you want me to say," I finally managed, inching toward the door again. "It's absolutely heinous what your father did to you, Tony, but I had no idea you hated Joe so much—"

"Hate him!" he cut me off in dumbfounded exasperation. "I fucking LOVE him. He's my baby brother! You think I'd endure what I did if I hated him? What the hell's wrong with you!"

_What? He was asking what was wrong with ME?_ I was beginning to wonder about the state of Tony's sanity. One minute he was vilifying his brother and the next professing his sacrificial love toward him. What kind of family had I married into that kept such dark secrets _from_ one another, vocalized such resentment _about _one another and yet endured such Godforsaken torture _for _one another. It was truly beyond my comprehension.

"I don't understand," I whispered. "Why are you doing this? Why are you threatening me? Why won't you just tell Joe the truth about what's going on?"

Tony glowered again. "I'm not _threatening _you, for Christ's sake. And Joey can't do a goddamned thing about what's happening, so he should mind his own business. We're trying to protect—"

"We?" I pounced on the word. It was the second time he'd used it. "Who constitutes we? You and Paul?"

"Forget it," he brushed me off. "I misspoke."

"No, you didn't," I pushed, unconsciously taking a step back toward him. "You _and _Paul are both knee-deep into this, aren't you? Is he helping you, or are you helping him?"

"Leave it alone," Tony dismissed me with a toss of the hand.

"What's your connection to Louie Nagel? The papers in the suitcase show you were doing business with him—"

"You've already read the papers? Jesus, why not just kill me now! I'm telling you—keep your nose out of this before someone else gets hurt."

So he obviously knew about Nagel's death. But _how _did he know? Had Angelina gotten word to him after my talk with her at the deli yesterday afternoon, or was it because he himself had killed him!

"What about Angelina and Adrienne?" I questioned relentlessly. "How do they fit into this? And Myra Flowers—are you really having an affair with her? Or is it Lil Conroy? Exactly how many women _are _you having affairs with anyway?"

"God, you're fucking getting on my nerves! Just SHUT UP!" he screamed, putting his hand to his forehead. He looked like he hadn't slept since his visit Sunday night and was clearly losing control. And while part of my heart ached for the child inside of him that had been hurt so badly, my loyalty was to the child within _me_. I needed to get away from Tony before he completely went over the edge.

My words must have finally penetrated into his befuddled brain, because his gaze grew pointed. "How do you know about Lil?"

"I don't know—here, there—who knows?" I responded vaguely, feeling the need to walk on eggshells again.

"Well, leave her alone," he warned with intimidation. "She's got _nothing_ to do with any of this."

My naturally inquisitive nature just couldn't seem to be stifled. "What _IS_ _this_? If you don't trust Joe, maybe I can help you."

He snorted. "I'm not as stupid as you seem to think I am, Babe."

Before I could censor myself, I burst out with, "I told you not to call me Babe!" _Omigod, was I insane? Had I really just threatened_ _HIM? _I wanted to shove the words back into my mouth.

Tony smirked. "That's right—I forgot. Babe is for exclusive use by _your _lover."

I couldn't help it. I went completely goggle-eyed. _How in the hell did Tony know about Ranger?_

Observing my reaction, he shook his head. "Don't look so surprised, Stephanie. The whole goddamned Burg knows you were fucking Manoso at the same time as Joey—at least I did. I make it a point to keep tabs on my siblings and their spouses or significant others, and you can bet I won't be stopping even though you've finally married my brother."

"Tony—"

"You think I haven't heard through the grapevine about your little clandestine relationship with that mercenary? I didn't know he called you Babe until I guessed if after you had such a volatile reaction to the word here in the kitchen the other night. It got you pretty upset to hear your lover's pet name coming from my mouth, didn't it?"

All sense of blustery boldness on my part had been obliterated. Now I felt nothing but sick and dirty again at the knowledge of how my own stupidity had brought so much pain and embarrassment to Joe. A sense of physical weakness suddenly overcame me along with a tremendous need to lie down.

"I'm not feeling well," I announced dazedly. "I need to call Joe."

"What's the matter, Stephie? Does the truth you're no better than I am hurt?" Tony jeered. He moved in front of me and once again my senses were assaulted by his disgusting odor. He lowered his voice. "But here's the thing I really want to know." He didn't even wait for a response. "Whose baby do you have in the oven there—my brother's or Manoso's?"

I swayed unconsciously, my stomach churning wildly. _Omigod_—_How the hell did he know I was pregnant let alone the paternity issue? _It had to have been Angelina who'd told him, which meant she'd been in contact with Tony sometime after I'd seen her at the deli. Obviously she was involved in this mess as well. My God—those poor children of theirs!

Tony reached out and put his hand over my belly and gave it a slight caress. "Whose is it, Stephie—you lying bitch. You're no better than any of the other goddamned whores I bed all the time; you know it? What'd you think—that tricking my brother into marriage would somehow legitimize your deceitful ways? You're nothing but a skank yourself, Stephanie _Plum."_

Mustering up one last burst of energy, I spat in his face, "Go to hell, Anthony!" And without even intending it, I began to spew every bit of breakfast I'd eaten earlier all over him.

"Fuck!" Tony jumped backward.

At that moment, there was knock at the door. _Mary Lou!_

I was still retching uncontrollably. Tony looked wild-eyed at first me, then the door. Grabbing his t-shirt and jacket from where he'd unceremoniously stripped, he looked down to where I was gasping to catch my breath. "Listen to me! You tell Joe to stay the hell out of this mess if he knows what's good for him—you—and that kid you're carrying."

Mary Lou pounded again. "Steph? I'm here. Open the door."

I opened my mouth to call out, and Tony immediately put his hand over it, despite his obvious revulsion over the fact I'd just gotten sick. "Don't you say a word until I'm out of here. I need time to figure out what to do, and you need to give it to me. Tell my brother to stay the hell out of this before he gets burned. Tell him I'm trying to get a handle on things. Tell him he owes me time and trust after all I've done for him. And tell him to stay away from Jason Meachum and the rest of those guys and to distance himself as far as he can from _anything _having to do with my case or Nagel's death. You got that?"

I felt like I was going to pass out and dropped to my knees. Tony pressed harder against my mouth. "Stephanie," he hissed. "Do you hear what I'm saying!"

I nodded weakly.

The pounding grew louder. "Open the door, Mrs. Morelli! Come on, we've got shopping to do!"

Tony gave me one last fierce look, released my mouth and bolted for the side door off the kitchen that led to the garage. He was no doubt headed for the door off the back of the garage.

"Mary Lou!" I cried hoarsely.

Slowly rising to my feet, I staggered to the front door and opened it to an agitated Mary Lou.

"What took you so long?" she demanded, but then saw my deathly pale face. Instinctively reaching for me, her voice sounded far away when she asked, "Steph? My God, what's happened!"

I barely heard the last word before I collapsed at her feet.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in bed, and Joe was frantically pacing at the foot of it, his cell phone pressed against his ear. Mary Lou was seated beside me holding my hand and looking equally concerned.

Joe noticed I was conscious, and a look of relief immediately crossed his face. "She's awake, Dr. Hamilton. Do you think it's okay for me to transport her now?"

_Transport? Transport where? What the hell was he talking about?_

"What do you mean keep her here? Are you crazy? I told you she passed out! Don't you think that warrants an examination at least?"

I opened my mouth and winced at the croaking sound that came out. "Joe, stop. I'm fine."

"If you won't examine her, then we'll find a goddamned doctor who will!" he was flailing his arm now, which was definitely not a good sign.

"Mare, tell him to stop," I begged. "I can explain everything."

Mary Lou looked doubtful, but she obediently turned to my husband. "Joe, give her a chance to talk. Tell the doctor you'll call him back."

I could tell he wanted to refuse. He was doing his usual clenched jaw/stare at his shoes routine. Finally he responded in frustration to the doctor. "Fine. We'll observe her here, and I'll be in touch."

Dr. Hamilton must have given him a few more instructions, because it took several more moments before the call was complete. As soon as he could, Joe disconnected and tossed his cell phone on the dresser before coming around the side of the bed.

Mary Lou instantly hopped up. "Now that you're awake I'll run downstairs and get you something to drink, Steph. How about some orange juice?"

"Water's good for now, Mare. Thanks," I said softly. "But I would like to clean up a little."

Joe nodded when Mary Lou raised her eyebrow at him—code for 'Can I do it?'—and allowed her to help me in the bathroom. Probably it was best for him to have a moment to get composed anyway. Clearly he'd been out of his mind with worry. Mary Lou and I didn't speak a word to one another while we were alone. In fact, I'd no sooner stepped into the bedroom than she said, "I'll see about that water." I had a feeling she wanted to disappear before the lion in Joe was unleashed.

He was still pacing upon my return. Seeing me, he helped me climb back into the bed, and then sat down gingerly next to me. Pulling me into his arms, he breathed in my scent and said, "You scared me to death, Cupcake."

"I know. I'm sorry," I answered softly.

He pulled back far enough to assess my face, and I could see he still looked terrified. "Is it the baby?"

"The baby's fine," I assured him tiredly, leaning in to brush my lips against his with a whisper of a kiss. "Aren't you supposed to be testifying?"

He smoothed a stray lock of hair away from my face. "We'd just adjourned for morning recess when I got Mary Lou's phone call. She said you opened the door for her and immediately passed out on the floor. After my heart started beating again, I think I was here in less than five minutes."

I couldn't help but give him a wobbly smile. It must have been a sight to see him driving over from the courthouse. If only he could have been home twenty minutes earlier! My confrontation with Tony would have played out quite differently to be sure! I shuddered involuntarily at what _had _transpired.

"What the hell happened?" Joe questioned, while settling me back against the pillows. "I noticed you got sick on the floor downstairs. Were you dizzy afterward or something? Is that what caused you to faint?" He looked at me expectantly.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but a very real part of me wanted to give Joe a water-downed version of what had happened with Tony simply because I knew he was going to go ballistic when he heard the truth. He must have sensed my dilemma as well, because his next words were, "No fooling around, Steph. What happened?"

Closing my eyes briefly, I said a silent prayer he'd remain calm and began, "Tony was here."

_Dead silence._

Hearing nothing for several agonizing moments, I opened my eyes to see why he wasn't responding and met Joe's blistering stare.

"Did he hurt you?" he rasped.

I shook my head. "No, nothing too bad, but—"

"Where did he touch you?"

"My arm. He grabbed it to turn me back around at one point."

His eyes smoldered with suppressed rage. "Show me."

"It's _not_ a big deal."

"Show. Me"

With his help, I unbuttoned my blouse to reveal my upper left arm where you could still clearly see the red marks from Tony's grip.

"He's a dead man," Joe pronounced in a lethal tone. "I'll kill him myself. I _told_ that son of a bitch to keep his hands off of you!"

"Joe—"

"Where else?"

_Sigh. _"He covered my mouth briefly when Mary Lou got here, so that I wouldn't alert her to his presence." Seeing where Joe's thoughts were headed, I hastened to add, "It's not what caused me to pass out. That was merely from fear and nerves over the situation." And God, I _had _been terrified—for both our baby and me. My heart raced at the memory, and I had to struggle against the tears threatening to fall.

"How the hell did he get into the house?"

"A key. Evidently you gave him one the last time he stayed here."

Joe swore under his breath. "It's true. It was so long ago I completely forgot about it. Damn it!"

"I heard the front door open and thought it was Mary Lou. I wanted to surprise her, so I snuck down the staircase. But instead of her, I found Tony with his head in the base of the entertainment cabinet."

Joe looked stunned. "What?"

"He was looking for the suitcase just like we thought. However, he claims he didn't break into the apartment or the SUV or the house yesterday. And yet he mentioned Louie Nagel by name, so clearly he's involved somehow. He said some other things too that made me realize Angelina talked with him after I saw her at the deli yesterday."

"So she _is _helping him somehow." He shook his head. "Christ, this is a goddamned nightmare."

"I'm positive Paul is part of the scenario too. Twice Tony slipped and indirectly inferred that someone else was involved."

"What did you tell him about the suitcase?"

I smiled ruefully. "Can you believe I couldn't even think of a single friggin' lie to tell him? I racked my brain trying to come up with anything to hold him off—"

"You told him I took it to the police, didn't you?" Joe guessed.

"I'm sorry—"

He held up his hand. "Don't be. I'm _glad _you did. I want the little fucker to sweat. I'm going after him myself."

I was horrified at his words, and my face showed it. "Don't say _that_. He's your brother!"

"I'm well aware of that, Cupcake," he responded humorlessly. "But I told him to stay away from you and look at what he did. He broke into our house, scared you to death and—" He swallowed hard. "He _hurt _you."

"But I'm fine."

"And I'm grateful, but that doesn't change a goddamned thing for me. I gave him plenty of chances to tell me the truth about what happened the night he was arrested. I offered him help against my better judgment. And instead every time he chose to leave me in the dark. So you know what?" He sliced his hand through the air. "I'm done. I'm finished with all of this family bullshit. I have my own family to worry about now."

I took his hand. "I understand your upset, Joe."

"Upset doesn't even _begin _to describe how I feel, Stephanie. I'm beyond livid!"

"That may be, but that doesn't mean you stop using your head," I chastised him. "You need to do some of that compartmentalization crap you're always bragging about. Stop thinking like a husband and process like a cop for a minute. There's more to this whole story than we know."

"I _am _a husband!" he glared at me. "And my _own _brother fucking touched my pregnant wife! What the hell do you want from me? I told you I'm human!"

I refused to back down. "I _know _that, and I appreciate how much you love me, but you need to think, Morelli." I purposefully used his surname, thinking it would make him snap into cop mode.

He was still glowering, but surprisingly took my advice. "What else?" he bit out, nonetheless frustrated.

"It's all so confusing," I confessed in a rush. "Tony kept insisting he's doing all of this to protect you. At one point, he even slipped and said, '_We're_ trying to protect you'. I'm sure he was referring to Paul. But then I have the feeling that Tony is trying to protect _Paul _too. Think about it—Paul's the one who has the long-term relationship with all of those guys. Doesn't it make more sense that _he's _the one involved with the drug business?"

"Yes, but the evidence—"

"To hell with the evidence. We're talking about your family. You know the dynamics of those two and how loyal they are to one another better than anyone. Tony's been trying to save his siblings all his life. Wouldn't it make sense he's still doing it?"

Joe was silent while he tried to set his anger aside and think rationally.

I chose that moment to offer quietly. "I don't think he's mentally stable, Joe."

"Who—Tony? Obviously not if he's turned to selling drugs," he agreed sarcastically.

"I'm being serious. He needs professional help." Reluctantly I shared how Tony had expressed such hatred toward Joe for being the golden boy of the family. "He's extremely jealous of all you've obtained both personally and professionally. And yet swears he loves you—that he's spent his entire life trying to protect you."

Some of the fight left Joe and guilt quickly took its place. Exhaling loudly, he said, "I know. He's scarred both literally and figuratively. But that doesn't excuse—"

"He showed me the scars—the literal ones, I mean."

Joe looked dazed. "What?"

"He bared his upper scars to me. I was scared to death he was going to show me the lower ones too."

The anger was immediately back. "What kind of sick fuck is he? My God, Steph, I'm so sorry—"

"That's not even the half of it," I continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "He's been keeping tabs on you and your other siblings, their spouses and me for years. He says it's his job as head of the Morelli family." Taking another deep breath, I went for broke. "He knows about Ranger."

Joe's body immediately tensed beside me. "What about him?" he asked cautiously.

"The fooling around, the deceit, the fact that I'm pregnant, the issue of paternity—all of it." I tried my best to keep my voice detached, but couldn't prevent the tiny quaver that emerged.

He dropped his head. "Shit."

"I know. How long before the rest of the Burg knows?" I fretted.

"How did he even know you're pregnant?"

"Angelina must have told him. He made a point of telling me that just because I'd snagged you into marriage didn't mean he wouldn't be watching me. He—" I faltered momentarily. "He wasn't very nice by that point in our confrontation."

Joe's senses were on full alert again. "What'd that bastard do?"

My voice hitched. I hadn't realized until then just how degrading Tony had been toward me when he'd accosted me about Ranger. "He—" I faltered.

Joe shifted so that his back was against the headboard and pulled me into his embrace. "It's okay, Steph. No matter what he said, it's a goddamned lie. You know I love you. Just say it."

"He said I was no better than any of the whores he sleeps with. He called me a skank. He also figured out that Ranger used to call me Babe and used it as another way to humiliate me." Tilting my head in order to see Joe's face, I went on miserably, "He put his hand on the baby, Joe. He made me feel dirty all over again. God, I hate what I allowed myself to do to—"

Joe stopped my words with a long, soothing kiss that served as a balm to my heart. In a gesture so different from the unwelcome one Tony had made, he placed his hand protectively over my stomach. "Stephanie, I've already forgiven you," he whispered. "No more guilt. I love you and our child more than anything else in this world, and I'll do whatever I have to in order to protect you both. Do you believe that?"

He waited until I nodded before continuing, "But you're right. Tony is obviously suffering from mental illness brought on by years of abuse. What level of illness we're talking about remains to be seen, but it's clear he's not capable of functioning well on his own."

"He told me to give you a message," I suddenly remembered.

"Which was?"

"He said to stay the hell out of this before you get burned. He said he's trying to get a handle on things and that you owe him time and trust after all he's done for you. And he said to stay away from Jason Meachum and the rest of those guys and to distance himself as far as you can from _anything _having to do with his case or Nagel's death."

Joe was silent for a long time—too long. I tried to wait patiently, but finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. "What are you thinking?" I wondered.

Running a hand lovingly along my right arm, he admitted, "I'm thinking you're right—there's more to the story. I'm not ruling out the possibility one or both of them aren't involved with the business. There's too much evidence to the contrary. But it certainly sounds as though _they_ at least believe in their own innocence."

"Did you ever get a cause of death on Nagel?"

"Drug overdose. He was pumped full of heroin."

Scrunching my face from my own thoughts, I noted, "There's just no way Tony or Paul could run an operation of that magnitude. I think we need to start looking at Jason Meachum and the rest of those losers. One of them could just as easily have been the person who broke into my apartment, etc."

"We?" Joe cocked an eyebrow. "_Half _of this "we" needs to get some serious rest. You've had nothing but stress since the moment you found out you were pregnant. In fact, I'm going to tell Rogers to forget dinner tonight."

"No!" I protested forcefully, pushing away from him. "I'm not some kind of delicate flower, Morelli. I can—"

"You're the strongest woman I know," Joe acknowledged truthfully. "There's no doubt about it, but there's not just you to consider anymore, Steph."

"I _know_, but the baby is fine too."

"We don't know that. The damn doctor won't even take the time to examine you, which I still can't believe. A pregnant woman passes out, and the doctor doesn't even want to assess her himself?"

"Because _he_ knows what I do," I responded irritably. "I passed out from the stress. A quick shopping trip for a dress, a power nap when I get home, and I'll be good to go."

"No shopping," Joe shook his head.

My eyes narrowed predictably. "Are you trying to order me around, Morelli?"

"God protect me if I was," he smiled. "No, I'm compromising, Mrs. Morelli. Dinner remains on the agenda _only _if you stay home and rest today."

"But I need a dress," I protested.

Mary Lou chose that moment to come back into the room. "I can pick up something for you, Steph. I'd be happy too." She handed me a glass of water and a banana.

"But—"

"Compromise," Joe repeated, softening the blow with a smile.

"Oh, all right," I agreed grouchily. _Actually, a nap DID sound awfully good._

Joe handed me my phone laying on the nightstand beside me. "Call your mom and see if she can come stay with you until I get home."

"That's ridiculous. I'm a big girl, Joe. I can stay here by myself."

"Not with Tony still out there with a key, and possibly someone else who _isn't_ aware the suitcase has already been taken to the police.

"My mother can't come," I argued some more. "It's Thursday. That's the day she takes Grandma Mazur to get her hair done."

"Well then, how about Connie or Lula?"

"They're backlogged without me working."

"Val or one of my sisters?"

"They have their own children to deal with. Joe, come on. I'll be fine."

He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Mary Lou's out—she'll be shopping, and I have to get back to court. And I'm sure as hell not asking Ranger or one of his goons to come, so I guess that leaves only one choice."

"Who's that?"

"_My_ mother."


	15. Chapter 15

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Great googly-moogly, this is a long chapter! Sorry, but there was a lot to say. LOL!

Welcome to Raye, a new reader that's joined the story. Thank you for the feedback. I wish I could thank you in person.

Also, THANK YOU to Julie for continuing to provide me with excellent counsel and feedback as this part of the story begins to come to a close. It won't' be much longer folks! However, is it okay if I supply a teaser that there _will _be a 4th story? I hope a few of you will stick around for that one too.

Okay, here we go. Have a great day all!

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Mary Lou peeked her head around the corner of the bedroom doorway, her eyes filled with terror. "She's here, Steph. Mrs. Morelli's here," she announced in a stage whisper tinged with panic.

Glancing up from the magazine I was attempting to read, I cringed. "Oh God, here we go. Is she alone?"

She shook her head slowly back and forth.

_Shit._

Hadn't I already endured enough after my encounter with Tony earlier that morning? Now I was being subjected to not only my brand new, scary mother-in-law, but also my even scarier grandmother-in-law, the Wicked Witch of the West. Someone should just kill me now, because, all things considered, I was about to die a slow, painful death anyway.

Motioning Mary Lou closer to me, I said in a low, intense voice. "If you've ever loved me—if I'm the very best friend you've ever had—if you understand I will make your life a living hell by telling your husband you had cold feet the night before your wedding, you'll stay here with me."

She snorted loudly. "Sorry, but I confessed to Lenny in a moment of weakness years ago, and no amount of love and loyalty could keep me here. You're lucky I stayed long enough to open the door for them. Now I'm going shopping. In fact, I'm so scared from having to greet those two I may have to go buy something sparkly and new for _me_."

"Traitor," I accused with a frown.

"Just call me Benedict Arnold," she agreed without a trace of guilt. "I'll send Mrs. Morelli up on my way out."

"Gee thanks." Rolling my eyes at her, I waited until she was almost out the door before adding, "I mean it, Mare. Thanks for your help this morning and for finding me something to wear tonight."

She blew a kiss in my direction. "You're welcome. Glad to see you have a little color back in your cheeks. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Hurry!" I begged, but it was to an open doorway. When it came to being around Morelli women, she was a lot like Ranger was in any undesirable situation.

Mary Lou was smoke.

Taking deep breaths, I gave myself a major pep talk while waiting for Mrs. Morelli to make an appearance. I was under strict orders from my husband not to get out of bed, unless it was to use the bathroom, until he came home. Despite all of the grumbling on my part, I had to admit it felt pretty nice to have a reason to lie around and do nothing for a change. Between the stress, the Zofran and the pregnancy itself, I was flat out exhausted.

Unfortunately, after calling his mother, Joe hadn't been able to wait for her arrival. He'd been ordered back to court to begin the next session. Instead Mary Lou had offered to wait with me. After a bit of discussion, Joe had decided to tell Mrs. Morelli the truth about Tony's apparent involvement with the drug operation along with his confrontation with me that morning. Just as he'd predicted—she'd been devastated to hear about her eldest son's behavior. My secret fear however was that she would somehow find a way to blame _me_ for what had transpired.

Not too many moments passed before she made her way into the bedroom with Bob on her heels. He immediately leaped onto the bed next to me and curled up in Joe's spot. _Bob! _I was so glad to see him. If only I hadn't put him out in the backyard early that morning, he might have provided a good distraction for when I'd discovered Tony.

Mrs. Morelli tried to shoo the dog off the bed. "I'm sorry. He was whining at the back door, so I let him inside. Do you want me to put him out again?"

"No—but thanks. I like his company." He had rolled onto his back to expose his belly, and I rubbed it affectionately.

Looking back at Mrs. Morelli, I noticed her eyes were filled with remorse. She moved closer and brushed back the hair from my forehead in a motion that reminded me of Joe.

"Stephanie, 'I'm sorry' seems inadequate after what Tony did to frighten you this morning," she stated. "I can't imagine why both my older boys are doing this to their families."

_Whew! _While I was relieved to know Mrs. Morelli didn't blame me, it broke my heart to see the pain Tony and Paul's current escapades were causing their mother.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Morelli—"

She held up her hand. "Angie."

Swallowing my intimidation, I did as she asked. "Angie. Really. Joe is just being extra cautious because—" I paused, thinking of how to express my feelings. "Well, because he's Joe."

That brought a small smile to her face. "My Joseph has the heart of a caregiver," she agreed, apparently pleased I'd recognized the attribute in her son as well. "Still, the two of you haven't even been married two weeks and look at what all has happened."

_You don't even know the half of it, Angie! _Smiling wanly, I simply responded, "A real whirlwind."

She brushed her hands against her pants and said, "Well, let me at least take care of you this afternoon. Are you hungry?"

"Always."

"Good. I brought over spinach and vegetable lasagna. That should be extra nutritious for my grandbaby." Her eyes grew moist, and she shocked me by taking my hand in hers. "Stephanie, I love _all _my grandchildren very much, but I have no doubt the one you're carrying will be the most special of all to me—my ultimate blessing."

_Hunh. _Why was I suddenly feeling pressure to produce an über baby for my mother-in-law? She'd shown nothing but kindness toward me, and yet her statement held an underlying current of expectation that _this _grandchild would somehow be perfect. Boy, did I have news for her. Considering its mother, this child would be lucky to grow up without the need for serious, ongoing therapy! Was this subtle pressure I felt what Joe had experienced growing up? No wonder he had become such a wiseass, bad boy during high school.

I hesitated to ask, but my darn curiosity got the better of me again. "Why is that?"

Her eyes fairly glowed. "Because it will be part of Joseph and further confirmation I was able to protect and raise at least one of my children right."

I wasn't about to touch that statement with a ten-foot pole.

"I'm glad you're excited," I managed to say. _Damn, how many more hours until Joe got home?_

"I'll be right back with a tray," she announced, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it and heading back downstairs.

"This is going to be one hell of a l-o-n-g afternoon, Bob," I muttered under my breath after she'd left. He gave a rather pitiful whine in response, so I assumed he agreed.

Ten minutes later I heard the unmistakable clomp of Grandma Bella's sturdy shoes on the staircase. Bracing myself, my heart thumped nervously as I watched her appear in the doorway carrying a tray heaped with enough food for me, Bob and probably half of the Burg as well.

"Stephanie," Bella acknowledged me brusquely.

Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I tried to remember my manners from the school of Helen Plum and acknowledged Joe's grandmother, "Hello, Mrs. Morelli. Thank you for bringing my lunch."

She raised one eyebrow at me. "I _suppose_ you could call me Bella," she responded in her usual gruff manner, "seeing as you've finally decided to make an honest woman of yourself and are carrying Joseph's child."

My mouth instinctively opened at her rudeness. But then what she'd said hit me.

_Joseph's child._

My eyes lit up. Did she _know _this was Joe's child? Had she seen another vision or something? Hold up—that would mean she also knew there was a question of paternity in the first place. The thought caused me to sink back down in complete mortification. _Oh dear God, PLEASE do not let her know about THAT particular mess!_

I realized she was still talking. "I told you at your wedding there was trouble ahead, didn't I? No one believes an old woman can see what I do, but I _know_ things, Stephanie." Her nearly black eyes bored into mine as she settled the tray across my lap. _Jesus! _The woman couldn't possibly be any creepier. Joe was going to pay for making me endure this torture without him.

"Uh—thank you," I mumbled, picking up my fork. Maybe if I started eating, she'd take the hint and leave.

Bella evidently had other ideas for she found a tiny corner at the foot of the bed and sat down, smoothing her black dress modestly over her knees. "If you recall at your wedding, I also said you now represent the best of the Morelli name. As you unfortunately discovered this morning with Anthony, I was right about that too. While he has endured much, Anthony has used his misfortune as a crutch into adulthood and has done nothing with his life except follow in his father's footsteps—God rest his soul." She crossed herself before continuing, "On the other hand, my grandson Joseph is the finest of men."

_Go AWAY, you crazy old woman! _"You won't get an argument from me," I agreed, taking a bite of the lasagna. For being chock-full of _vegetables _it was actually very good.

She was watching me like a hawk. "Yes, but much of your past behavior hasn't always shown good judgment, particularly as it pertains to my grandson. Wouldn't you agree?"

My dander went up, and this time I couldn't blame it on hormones. Despite being scared to death of this woman, I couldn't let the comment slide. "Is there something in particular you're trying to say, _Bella_?" I asked, risking "the eye" by staring her down.

She met my gaze head on. "I'm saying I expect you to conduct yourself in a manner befitting the wife of a respected police officer in this community. No more games, no more silly antics, no more embarrassing Joseph with sophomoric behavior. You're no longer eighteen years old, Stephanie. You're a wife and soon to be a mother. Act your age."

I was completely bowled over. Who did this woman think she was coming into my home and telling me how to live my life when _she'd_ raised an absolute monster of a son? To hell with this crap! "Is this your standard pep talk for all of the incoming spouses?" I asked in a clipped voice, barely keeping it from a sneer. "Or am I the only lucky one?"

Ignoring my dig, she answered seriously, "I spoke with Ronald and Marcus after they married Cathy and Mary about certain delicate matters that are none of your concern. As for Angelina and Adrienne, I figured they must both be stupid if they couldn't see for themselves they were asking for trouble by marrying Anthony and Paul."

I couldn't take much more of her bizarre behavior, and I was really starting to feel as though I should pray for my baby's mental health after getting a close-up taste of Joe's lineage today. Hopefully my husband's personality traits would be strong enough to overpower the genetics of his family.

She continued, "My words to you are the most important, however, because—"

I cut her off. "I think—"

"Do _not _interrupt an older woman," she chastised me, her mouth pursing in a grim line across her face. "I may not have always approved of you, Stephanie Plum—"

"Morelli," I corrected, lifting my chin defiantly.

An odd sort of half smile replaced the grimace. "Stephanie Morelli," she noted acceptingly. "I may not have always approved of you, but you've shown me in recent weeks you do indeed love my grandson. And there is no question he is completely besotted with you. But there is still trouble ahead," she repeated her vision from the wedding, "and Joseph will need your strength more than ever—"

"What kind of trouble?" My heart began to pound again. _Was she referring to the paternity test? _Should I break down and ask her what she knew? _Was it Tony?_

"You need to be the light he needs to see through the dark times that are coming," she responded cryptically.

_Light? Dark? _Omigod—that's all we'd talked about of late—how Joe had always been left in the dark. Boy was he ever wrong about his grandmother. Not only did this woman have "the eye", she was a fucking mystic!

"I'll try," I whispered, my voice shaking. I was starting to be afraid she'd turn me into a newt if I failed.

Bella stood and further shocked me with her next words. "And I believe you'll succeed. You have far more strength than you give yourself credit for, Stephanie. If you'd put your energy into becoming the woman you are capable of being, you'd see exactly just how competent you really are. You'll need much strength in the days ahead, but I do believe you'll make Joseph a fine wife if you leave your foolish ways behind."

Part of me wanted to ask her what she meant exactly by foolish ways, but I was afraid to know the answer. My anger had dissipated, and I realized this woman merely wanted what was best for her grandson. Once again the level of expectation Joe had struggled to live under all his life struck me. It couldn't have been easy.

"I'll let you eat your lunch in peace," Bella offered, turning toward the door. She'd taken only two steps before she turned back and nailed me with one last look. "Just remember, Stephanie—with great risk, comes great reward." And with that parting remark, she left the room.

Yep, there was no question left in my mind. The Morelli's—save Joe—were all certifiably nuts.

It took some effort, but I managed to put all of her disturbing comments out of my head while I enjoyed the rest of my lunch. Bob had shown great restraint in not mooching anything from me, so I rewarded him with the rest of the plate once I'd finished. I didn't even care if Joe's mom thought I was the pig who'd eaten it all. I was too tired to care. It was definitely naptime for Baby Morelli and me.

* * *

Three hours later I awakened feeling stronger and ready to tackle the rest of the day. At some point, Bob had disappeared downstairs, along with the food tray, so I assumed Angie had been back to get them both. No sooner had I conjured her name than the woman herself peeked into the room.

"You're awake," she smiled. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm fine—thanks. And thank you for the lunch. It was really great. Sorry I fell asleep before I could tell you earlier."

She waved off my apology. "I'm glad you got some rest. Joseph said you have to go to dinner tonight with the acting chief of police."

"Yeah. Did Mary Lou get back yet?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful that she and Bella would leave if Mare had returned.

She shook her head. "Not yet."

Suddenly I noticed she was holding my cell phone. Seeing the direction of my gaze, Angie held the phone out to me.

"It buzzed several times while Bella and I were cleaning up downstairs."

_Oh. My. God—please let 'cleaning up' be code for doing the lunch dishes and not ACTUAL cleaning. _The last thing I wanted was for the two of them to be poking around in our personal things. What if they discovered Grandma Mazur's bag of sex toys I'd stuffed in the front hall closet after our return from Barbados!

With shaking fingers, I accepted the phone. "Thanks." A quick glance at the screen revealed I had received a text from Ranger that read: _Any word from the doctor? How are you feeling?_

I wasn't about to reply with Joe's mother in the room, so I set the phone on the nightstand and made a mental note to get back to him later.

Meanwhile, Angie seemed to be weighing a decision of her own. After a slightly awkward pause, she sat down in the exact place where Bella had earlier and clasped her hands tightly in her lap, saying, "Stephanie, you saw how Tony was this morning firsthand. Do you think he's truly involved with selling drugs, or do you think it could all possibly be a horrendous mistake?"

I sat up a little straighter and set all of my personal thoughts aside, staggered that Mrs. Morelli would let down her protective guard down even this tiny bit with me. Taking a moment to think of how to answer her, I finally said, "You know, whenever my sister Val and I would fight as kids, my mother would have each of us tell her our side of the story, and then she'd say to us, 'Well, the truth lies in the middle of there somewhere. We simply have to find it'."

Mrs. Morelli made a little humming noise. "That sounds like wise counsel."

"That's sort of how I feel about this situation with Tony. He's claiming one thing, and the police have all of this evidence that proves differently. I may not know Tony well, but I personally don't think he's capable of managing a drug operation of this magnitude. So no, I'd have to agree with my mother—the truth lies somewhere in the middle between Tony and the police."

Angie nodded thoughtfully. "I'm having trouble believing it myself, but, of course, I have no way of proving anything other than to say he's my son, and I don't think the make-up of his personality would allow him to do something like this."

Deciding I had nothing to lose, I took a stab in the dark. "Do you think Paul would be capable?"

Her eyes became sharp and narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

I shrugged. "Paul hasn't been seen at work in five days. I checked. Adrienne and Angelina are trying to cover for both of their husbands, and my gut is telling me Tony is covering for Paul in all of this."

Mrs. Morelli covered her mouth with her hand. "You think Paulie's the one involved with this operation? Oh dear God!"

"That's only my supposition," I hastened to assure her. "I have no proof other than the bizarre behavior of Tony, Angelina and Adrienne and the fact Paul was the one who was friends with Jason Meachum and all of those guys in high school—not Tony."

"Yes, that's true," she mused. "I hadn't thought of it. I _never_ approved of those boys. Then again I didn't approve of much of what my _own_ boys did in high school, including Joseph. Thankfully he managed to turn his life around. Bella and I always had such high hopes for him. He was the only one left unscathed by—" she stopped, suddenly realizing what she was saying.

"By Joe's father," I completed, nodding my head. "I'm aware of what your family's situation was like, Mrs. Morelli, and it makes me sad."

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Did _Joseph _say something to you? He—"

"Wasn't supposed to know." I interrupted again. "I get it. No, it was Angelina who shared with me what Tony had told _her_. She wanted me to feel more included in the family."

Angie bristled. "She had no right! And neither do you for bringing this up to me." She stood abruptly to leave.

I forged ahead. "The thing is, Mrs. Morelli, Joe _already _knows. He knew when he was a kid. He's a brilliant detective, and those analytical skills of his were already being put to the test as a child. While you may have thought he wasn't cognizant of what was happening in your home, he saw and heard everything." I paused, wondering if I should say any more. I didn't want to betray Joe's feelings if he wanted them kept private.

"All of it?" she whispered, dropping back down on the bed. She herself was being transported back to the horrific nightmare of her life back then.

"Yes, the boys' physical abuse, the girls' sexual abuse—all of it."

"Oh dear God, I had no idea," she whispered in a stunned voice, and then quickly stiffened her spine. "We shouldn't talk about this anymore. Can I get your something else to eat?"

"Mrs. Morelli—Angie—"

"I said that's enough, Stephanie," she snapped. "It was a long time ago, and we all need to move beyond it."

I leaned forward in the bed. "But don't you see? _None _of you have healed! You walk around in your own private hells trying to deal with the anger and the guilt and the grief of what you endured—none of you reaching out to one another—and yet it still consumes all of you. This unresolved—pardon me—shit just keeps festering and coming out in unhealthy ways."

"Don't _lecture _me!" she burst furiously. "You have _no idea_ what I endured for my children's sake from that monster!" Her chest began to heave. "Never knowing which one he'd abuse in order to make _me _pay for whatever sin I'd supposedly committed against him in that particular moment. Do you know what it's like to watch your son being dragged across the floor to the garage? To hear the sound of a bone snap and know you weren't able prevent it? Or the sound of your daughter's strangled cries while her own father rapes her repeatedly? To watch your daughters walk around like zombies half the goddamned time?"

I felt sick to my stomach. This was worse than any nightmare I could imagine. "Then why—"

"Why didn't I stop it? Is that what you're going to ask?" She moved closer to shove her finger into my personal space. "Don't you dare judge me! Rocco threatened to kill my children _and_ me if I so much as went near a telephone. He had me convinced he'd kill me in order to make their lives an even worse hell after I was gone or kill them off one by one in order to torture me. God, do you know how many times I packed my bags, ready to leave him only to realize I had NOTHING—no money, no place to go and five children depending upon me." She stood again and began to pace in the space beside the bed.

As far as I could tell Mrs. Morelli was no longer even aware I was there. She was reliving her past guilt and misery. "I tried to kill him one night—I swear to God I did! He'd just finished with Mary in the bedroom. I went to the kitchen to get a butcher knife, and I was going to slaughter the son of a bitch like the pig he was. Instead he found me with the knife and cut off nearly every inch of my hair in retribution."

Her eyes were dry but she looked half-crazed from memories. "I thought of poisoning him, but he always made me try the food first. He wasn't stupid, Stephanie or just a mean drunk. He was nothing but goddamned pure evil!"

"I'm sorry," I whispered, realizing my own eyes were damp. "I don't mean to make you remember, Mrs. Morelli. It's just you seem to think you're protecting Joe by not sharing all of this with him, but it's just the opposite. He feels unbelievable guilt of his own for NOT having experienced all those things with the rest of you. He feels excluded from his own family."

"That's ridiculous," she sputtered. "We were protecting him—"

"His head acknowledges that," I agreed, "But in his heart, he's still feeling the pain of being left in the dark. He carries his own scars—just like the rest of you—only his are on the inside and he has no one to share them with."

"Except for you," Angie stopped her pacing and noted perceptively.

"Except for me," I confirmed quietly. "And it's a privilege to be able to be there for him after the multitude of times he's been there for me, but I can't help but feel all of these problems with Tony and Paul—and everyone else too—are simply the result of not sharing the truth with one another."

God, I was really overstepping my bounds here—both with Mrs. Morelli _and _Joe. Leave it to my mouth to get me in trouble again—and not even two weeks into my marriage! Worse yet, my words were like a mirror that never seemed to go away as I reflected upon my own deceitfulness and the consequences Joe and I were being forced to face as a result of them.

Angie was beginning to settle from her outburst. Gingerly, she sat back down on the bed only this time it was right next to me.

"You asked me earlier what I meant when I said your baby will be my ultimate blessing," she said intently. Running a shaky hand through her dark hair, she allowed me to see the raw emotion on her face. "I told you Joe was reared as the hope of our family. He was proof I could raise at least one child who wasn't tainted by the vileness of Rocco Morelli."

Her fingers reached out to touch the blanket where my stomach lay beneath. "Don't you see, Stephanie? _Your _baby will be proof that yet another generation of Morelli's will remain untainted. Through the love you and Joe have, there's hope for our family's future."

Her words—meant to bring me pleasure—brought nothing but anguish as I thought of how she'd react if she knew Ranger might be the actual father of my baby. I didn't want to be responsible for bringing her more pain in an already torturous life.

I took a closer look at what years of abuse had done to her already. She looked old, tired and beaten down. How could I berate this woman for doing what she thought was best for her children? Subconsciously, I slipped a hand across my belly to rest over hers. What depths of hell would I be willing to endure for _my _child?

In hindsight, I could see I'd always lived my life in somewhat of a self-centered manner, always looking to see how a situation was going to affect _me _and what _I _wanted? In not even two short weeks time, my whole focus had shifted to wanting to be there for my husband and now for what I prayed was our baby too. Was it possible for a person to change that much in such a short amount of time? Or had those characteristics always been there inside of me—hidden until the right person came along to give me the courage to reveal them?

I heard the front door open and the sounds of both Joe's and Mary Lou's voices as they entered the house. _Thank God! _Mrs. Morelli heard it as well and spoke in a low and urgent voice, "_Please_ don't tell Joe about this conversation, Stephanie. I don't want—"

"No," I responded immediately, shaking my head. "Don't ask me to be deceitful. I don't want to disrespect you, Mrs. Morelli, and believe me, I can understand how you feel, but my marriage _has _to be based in truth." I wasn't about to go into the details of why it was so critical to Joe and me. Let her think what she wanted.

She appeared ready to argue, but suddenly Joe and Mary Lou were in the doorway to the bedroom.

Joe bussed his mother's cheek with a kiss as she stood to have him take her place on the bed next to me. "Hey," he greeted me softly. "You doing okay?" Leaning over, he brushed his lips against mine. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," I whispered, very conscious of two other sets of eyes watching us.

"No aftereffects from Tony's visit?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine—honest. Where's Bella?"

He grinned "Sound asleep in a chair downstairs with Bob laying across her feet. Did you get some rest?"

"A three hour nap," I confirmed. "I'm ready to go out tonight—" Peering around his shoulder, I looked at Mary Lou. "That is if you managed to find something appropriate for me to wear."

"Do I ever fail you, your highness?" Mare quipped. She set a garment bag across the foot of the bed, unzipped it and pulled out a beautiful cobalt blue woolen dress. It had an empire waist and a full skirt—very tasteful for dining with the boss and his wife.

"The waist will give you some room to expand over the next few months, so you can probably get some use out of it during the holidays as well. After that, you'll be looking at maternity clothes, my friend." She said that last part with a teasing smile, knowing I wasn't looking forward to getting larger.

"It's beautiful, Mare. Thanks so much."

"No problem. We can settle up later. If you all will excuse me right not though, I have got to get home. My mother picked up the kids from school for me, but I need to think about preparing our own dinner."

Joe stood up and gave Mary Lou a kiss on the forehead. "Thanks for being Stephanie's best friend. I can see why you are."

She sighed, and I couldn't help but grin. Morelli was nothing if not charming.

"No problem," she repeated her earlier phrase—only this time with starry eyes. "Talk to you later, Steph."

"Mmmm…hmmm," I hummed, letting Joe know with _my _eyes how appealing I too found him to be. We all watched Mary Lou leave the room, and then Joe turned to his mother and me. "Did everything go okay here this afternoon?"

Angie flushed. "Fine. We had a good visit, but Bella and I need to get home as well."

"What's your hurry?" Joe asked graciously. "Don't you want to stay for a few minutes—at least until Grandma wakes up?"

"No," she said loudly. "I mean no thanks, dear. I'm sure you and Stephanie have to get ready for your dinner. We'll just let ourselves out."

I felt badly at her discomfort. "Thanks for lunch, Angie, and for staying with me. I enjoyed getting to know you better."

She seemed even more disconcerted. "Right. Me too. I'll just leave the rest of the lasagna." She paused and looked at us helplessly.

"Ma? Are you all right?" Joe's eyes narrowed in concern.

"I'm fine," she rushed to assure him. "We'll let ourselves out. Good-bye." And she too hustled from the room.

We sat there quietly until the front door shut, and then Joe wondered aloud, "What the hell was that all about? I've never seen my mother so flustered."

"We had a difficult talk this afternoon," I offered by way of explanation, not really wanting to get into the whole explanation when my husband was in such close proximity. After both my discussions about Joe with his mother and grandmother, I was ready to show him in my own way just how much he was loved by me.

"Oh yeah? About what?" He was already busy sneaking a peek down the front of the pajama top I'd changed into after he'd insisted I stay home that afternoon. Truthfully, I don't think he really cared about the answer to his own question. Morelli was up to his usual tricks now that we were on the same page emotionally and sexually.

I couldn't help but let out a little mewl of pleasure when he started unbuttoning the fabric, kissing the sensitive skin of my collarbone. "It doesn't matter right now," I noted distractedly, working quickly to undo the knot of the tie he'd worn for court. "Why don't you take a nap while I go get in the shower." As tired as he looked, I felt like I at least needed to make the offer.

"Huh-uh," he mumbled against the breast he'd exposed. "I'm thinking I'd better help you in the bathroom instead. What if you get dizzy or something and need me."

Flinging the tie aside, I went to work on _his _buttons. "Good thinking. I _am_ feeling a little weak now that you mention it. Can't be too careful, you know."

Scooping me up, Joe carried me into the bathroom. "Right. Prepare to be thoroughly cleaned, Cupcake."

"Promises, promises. Show me what you've got, Morelli."

* * *

Two hours later we went out to the garage to get into my old pick-up, so it was a huge shock for me to see a black Chevy Avalanche waiting proudly on the floor instead. Naturally I had to spend the next fifteen minutes grilling Joe for details about the trade-in and exploring every nook and cranny before we left. Joe also reported Bucky Siedler had promised to have the SUV ready the following morning. _Hallelujah!_

On the way downtown to the restaurant Brett Rogers had selected for dinner, we filled each other in on our respective afternoons. Joe shared how things were progressing with the hearings for the cops convicted in the Kennard mess. In turn, I told him about my conversation with Grandma Bella. By the time I'd finished repeating all of her cryptic messages to me, he was totally cracking up.

"I don't mean to laugh at my own grandmother," he choked out, "but what a bunch of bullshit. It's just too damn funny."

I wasn't laughing.

"How can you joke about this? Can't you see she's been right about so many things? She _really_ does have the eye."

This made him laugh even harder. "How can you say that with a straight face? Believe me, Steph, there is _no such _thing as the eye. She doesn't have visions. She doesn't know whose baby you're having. She's just an old woman who's had some amazingly lucky guesses of late."

I wasn't convinced nor was I happy Joe wasn't agreeing with me. "But how can you explain—"

"For one thing, the night our families celebrated our engagement we were both pretty revved. It would have been easy for her to sense the reason for our excitement. The only reason your mother didn't guess the news first was because she'd practically given up on the idea you'd ever want to get married."

Now I was frowning. "I never said I wouldn't get married."

Joe looked at me like I was crazy. "As for guessing you were pregnant, again it was fairly obvious. You were green around the gills, had a mountain of mashed potatoes on your plate and were glowing like a light bulb. That sure spells pregnant to me."

"I _don't _glow, and what about her reference to 'being the light you'll need to see through the darkness' comment? Your being in the dark is all we've talked about this week."

He let out a sigh. "She could've said you were the fork I needed to wade my way through the spaghetti noodles of life, and you would've heard a hidden message." Taking one hand off of the steering wheel, he reached over and picked up mine, bringing both of them to his lips. "Forget about it, Steph. I promise you my grandmother does _not_have the eye."

I still wasn't entirely convinced but decided to drop the subject since I obviously wasn't about to change _Joe's _mind. By then we were pulling into the parking lot of Settimo Cielo, a higher end Italian restaurant in downtown Trenton. During the week, it was popular with politicians and lobbyists, and I briefly wondered if there was an ulterior reason for the interim chief to have selected this particular location to meet. Who was he hoping to impress? No matter the motive, I wasn't too shy to admit I was terrified of having dinner with Joe's boss and his wife.

We found a parking spot, but left the heater running. It was fifteen minutes before we were supposed to meet, and neither of us seemed anxious to get of the warm cocoon of our vehicle. Smoothing my dress for what seemed like the millionth time since leaving home, I looked over at Joe in the fading twilight. He looked unbelievably handsome in his leather jacket, chocolate brown cashmere sweater and beige silk trousers.

No matter how much I'd tried to convince him to keep on the shirt and tie he'd worn to court, he'd refused. Oh well, he probably looked even sexier like this. In fact, I know he did. The way my body was already heating up in response to his rugged maleness made me want to say to hell with dinner and go back home. That was the thing I loved most about Joe. He didn't even have to try to come across as smooth or sexy. It just fit him like second skin. _Shoot! _Now I was all hot and bothered—and hungry.

"What's Rogers' wife's name again?" I asked anxiously. This was my first official function as Joe's wife, and I didn't want to disappoint him.

"Mona."

"That's right." _Damn, I was nervous. _"Do I look okay?"

His answer was to pull me halfway across the center console and kiss me senseless. "Stop worrying," he begged when we came up for air. "You couldn't possibly look any better, Cupcake. And if it weren't the chief of police asking for this dinner, I'd say to hell with it and go home. As it is, I'm going to have a hard time keeping my mind on the conversation when all I can think about his getting you naked again." The words were there, but I could tell his mind was focused on something else.

"Promises, promises," I teased, cupping my hand against the back of his head and drawing him closer for another kiss. Noticing his reserve, I added, "You okay? Are you thinking about Tony and Paul?"

Joe nodded. "Beyond my anger, I'm really starting to get worried about them. Where are they sleeping? What are they planning? Don't they understand their efforts are futile? The police will eventually catch up with them if Tony doesn't appear in court on Monday."

"It's difficult—"

He cut me off with a disgusted bark of a laugh. "Yeah, it's difficult alright knowing just how dysfunctional my family really is."

I held him close. "Just remember I love you."

"And as long as I know that everything else is bearable," he admitted. Pulling back slightly, he asked, "So what had my mother so rattled when she left this afternoon?"

I really didn't want to get into my discussion about his mother when we were so close to having to endure dinner with his boss. "It can wait until we go home."

"Tell me now," he insisted. "We still have ten minutes before we're supposed to meet them, and I don't want to waste time on talking when we get home." He ran the tip of his finger along the outline of my ear and repeated, "Tell me."

"Um…well, she asked me about whether or not I thought Tony was guilty."

"That's it?"

"No. Not really," I stalled.

"Come on," Joe cajoled. "It can't be that bad."

"We got to talking about truth. I was telling her my mother always used to say the truth lies somewhere in the middle of every disagreement. I said I believed the truth of Tony's situation is somewhere between what he's saying and the evidence the police have against him."

"That's good, Steph," he praised me sincerely. "Very cop-like, analytical thinking.

I felt my cheeks warming from the compliment. Thankful for the cover of darkness, I continued, "I asked your mom if she thought it was possible for Paul to be involved given his association with Jason Meachum and his cronies."

"What'd she think?"

"She said anything was possible and went on to bemoan the behavior of all you boys growing up. She mentioned how thankful she was you'd turned your life around for the better."

Joe snorted. "The Navy and getting hit by a goddamned Buick were all the incentive I needed to get my act together."

Ignoring his quip, I went on more cautiously. "The conversation became more personal by that point." I started to squirm, knowing he might get upset with the fact I'd told his mother so many of his personal feelings.

I think Joe sensed the change as well. He pulled back further to lean against the driver's side door. "What happened?" he asked pointedly.

"One minute your mom was talking about how proud she was of you, but then she inadvertently mentioned your father's name."

"What about him," Joe's voice was tight.

Taking a deep breath, I confessed, "I told her how hurt you were by the fact that everyone in your family was aware of your father's abuse, and of how you felt guilty for having been protected as well as angry for having been left in the dark."

He immediately took umbrage with what I'd done, and I recognized the similarity of his response with that of his mother's.

"I didn't ask you to do that," he said in an annoyed tone.

"No, and you didn't ask me to tell her you were fully aware of everything that happened inside her house either."

"Shit," Joe muttered. "I wish you hadn't done that, Steph. Making her feel guilty isn't going to help the situation any—"

"Maybe not, but you weren't there for the conversation. It just sort of happened."

I had to give Joe credit. I could tell his self-defense mechanism wanted to lash out with a sarcastic comment regarding how I'd used those words before to excuse past behaviors, but he held his tongue. Instead he asked somewhat bitterly, "How'd she respond to what you told her?"

"At first she wanted to shove everything back into the box she'd been using to hide her emotions for the past twenty-five or more years. When I pointed out she and your siblings are walking around like ticking time bombs, however, she exploded on me."

"Oh shit," he shook his head. "She lit up on you, huh? My mother always tries to show perfect control, but she _is _Italian too, you know. I've seen her temper myself more times than I care to remember."

I bit the side of my thumbnail. "She accused me of not understanding what it was like to have to live with a monster like your father."

"Jeez, how could she expect you to understand?" Joe surprised me by reaching out to capture my fingers. "Thank God _your _father's worst sin is merely being inflexible at times."

"She then described the hell she endured knowing what your father did to your siblings. It practically killed her to know she wasn't protecting all of you. In fact—" I paused, uncertain of whether I should tell him the rest or not.

"What?" Joe's body went on full alert.

I remained silent, still debating.

"Stephanie, I want you to finish. Tell me." He was using his cop voice, leaving no room for argument.

"She tried to kill him, Joe," I could barely force the words out. Just remembering the wild-eyed look in Angie's eyes when she'd told me had me shivering in the heat of the car.

He immediately tried to brush me off. "She was exaggerating."

"No, she wasn't. She tried to kill him—with a butcher knife."

I felt his hand tremble before he jerked it away from mine. "No way in hell."

I forced myself to go on despite the cruelty of it all. "Your father had just finished raping Mary."

Joe bent over at the waist in the driver's seat.

"She went to the kitchen to get a butcher knife, and he found her."

"That can't be true," he denied sounding desperate.

It made my stomach nauseous to be the bearer of such scandalous truth.

"He—he cut off almost all of her hair as a punishment."

"Oh fuck," Joe's voice was barely above a whisper as he closed his eyes. His elbows were on his knees, and his hands were buried in his hair "I remember. I _remember _that, Steph. She wore a scarf around her head for weeks after telling us she'd received a bad haircut."

He was breathing hard, and I didn't know what to do or say.

I made myself finish. "She thought about poisoning him, leaving him—anything to stop the nightmare, but he was always there to stop her."

Joe raised his head to look me in the eye. "I wish the son of a bitch were alive right now. I'd kill him myself."

"You wouldn't get an argument from me," I agreed without an ounce of mercy.

"Jesus. What kind of family have you married into?" he wondered in self-disgust. "We're a goddamn clusterfuck."

"No, what you are is wounded—all of you. And because of it, your father still holds the power. It won't be until you allow yourselves to heal that his reign will be broken."

We were silent for several minutes. A look at the clock showed we were five minutes late now. Joe swore softly, scrubbing his hands over his face as if to awaken from a nightmare, and said, "Let's get this dinner over with."

"Are you sure you can handle it?" I questioned worriedly.

"I'm fine," he brushed me off. "Come on."

He wasn't fine, and we both knew it. But I wasn't about to push him right now, so I obediently climbed out of the truck.

Hands entwined, we walked into the restaurant where Brett and Mona Rogers were waiting in the lobby for us. I'd met the interim chief at Pino's the night all of the Trenton Police Department had gathered after the Kennard fiasco to try and bolster morale among the force. He was an imposing man, even taller than Joe, with thinning silver and black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. His wife Mona was the complete opposite—a petite waif with short, auburn hair and piercing, green eyes. She looked like a woodland sprite in a long, flowing skirt and wraparound blouse.

Again, I self-consciously fussed at my dress with my free hand and was thankful for the reassuring squeeze Joe gave my other one before releasing it to take Brett Roger's own extended hand.

"Good evening, sir. You remember Stephanie from the Pino's event, don't you," Joe said by way of greeting.

"Of course. And Joe you've met Mona before of course, but Stephanie, this is my wife Mona."

I held out my hand, hoping it wasn't too sweaty. "It's nice to meet you. Thank you for inviting us to dinner."

"Oh, it's our pleasure," Mona enthused with a voice that fairly tinkled. "Congratulations on your recent marriage. I've known Joe for many years, and I think it's safe to say a lot of hearts were broken in Trenton the day you two made it official."

Joe gave an easy smile, but it was apparent his mind was elsewhere. "At least it wasn't my heart being broken this time. I had to wait a long time for Stephanie to say 'I do'."

Arching one brow, I smiled back at my husband and said coyly, "Don't you know that some things are worth the wait, Morelli?"

His eyes grew darker, no doubt thinking about the passion that awaited us upon our return home. "And so they are," he agreed huskily.

Mona waved her hand in front of her face. "Whew, did it suddenly get warm in here, or is it me?"

Her comment broke the ice, and we were still laughing as we followed the hostess to our booth. I'd only been to Settimo Cielo one other time with Dickie years ago. If I wanted to eat good Italian food, I typically stayed in the Burg, which was revered for having some of the best in New Jersey. Still this place was also known for having a good menu, and I didn't care where it was or _what_ it was, as long as I was able to eat soon. Despite my difficult conversation with Joe, now that the Zofran was holding the morning sickness at bay, I was almost always ravenous.

We placed our orders and soon a wine steward came to the table with two bottles of red and white wine. He served Mona and then approached me. "Madame?" he inquired, gesturing toward my glass.

With a glance at Joe out of the corner of my eye, I shook my head. "Um, no thank you. May I have an iced tea instead?"

"Certainly," he nodded. He filled Rogers' and Joe's glasses and then left.

Mona was looking at me with a smile on her face. "So it seems we need to offer you our congratulations again, eh Joe?"

I immediately blushed, but Joe took it with his usual stride. "Yeah. We just found out this week."

"Found out what?" Rogers asked, swiveling his head cluelessly among the three of us. He'd been looking around the room to see who else was dining in the restaurant during the entire exchange with the wine steward.

"Stephanie's pregnant," Joe explained, and I could hear the unmistakable pride in his voice. Of course that immediately made me think of the paternity test, which reminded me I hadn't responded to Ranger's text message. _Sigh. _Yet another black mark on my tally sheet regarding our tenuous friendship.

"Oh!" Rogers exclaimed. "Well then, congratulations to you both!"

"Thank you," I replied, sharing a look with Joe. It was obvious he too was beginning to feel the strain of not knowing who the actual father was of this child. That on top of the situation with his brothers and the blow I'd just dealt him regarding his parents was more than any man should have to bear at one time.

Rogers made a toast to both the wedding and the baby, and then we settled in to eat our salads. Conversation was kept to pleasant, benign topics, and Mona was exceptionally good at keeping the evening light-hearted and fun. Slowly but surely I watched Joe make an effort to relax. No doubt he'd needed a break from the stress.

It had turned into a nice evening—one all of us seemed to be enjoying. Perhaps that's why it was so shocking when Rogers asked toward the end of the main course, "Tell me, Joe. Have you had any luck in tracking down your brother yet?"

"Brett," Mona scolded lightly. "I thought you said you were going to keep this evening a celebration—not an interrogation."

Rogers brushed off her rebuke. "I'm simply curious. With the prelim coming up on Monday, it'd be good to know what we're up against."

Joe was clearly embarrassed about having to discuss his family with his boss, and I wondered how he'd handle the fact that while _he _hadn't seen Tony this morning—_I _had. It surprised me when he shifted in his chair toward Rogers and asked in challenge, "Exactly _which _brother are you referring to, sir, because I'm starting to get the impression you're really not all that concerned with _Tony_."

Rogers' face flushed. "What makes you say that," he blustered, fiddling with his fork.

"I'm a detective," Joe stated the obvious. "You _pay_ me to read body language and follow clues. And from everything I've been reading the past few days, I'm starting to believe you're using Tony to get to my brother Paul. Am I close to the truth here or what?"

I winced inwardly at how direct he was being with his superior. The stress of everything in our lives was causing a rare lack of control on his part.

Rogers was still flustered and more than a little angry at being called out by one of his men. After several uncomfortable moments, he set his fork aside and said, "Fine. We won't play games anymore, but before I answer your question, I'd like to remind Stephanie and Mona that this conversation is to be kept in the strictest of confidence. Am I clear?"

"Don't do this tonight, Brett," Mona warned. "Why don't we all simply enjoy the rest of our meal without bringing work into the picture."

"No, I'd really like to know the answer to my question," Joe pushed, maintaining an intense focus on his boss. He'd always held high regard for Rogers, as he'd worked beneath his command for several years. After the fallout from the Kennard Case, however, when Rogers had been named acting chief of police and had tried to force Joe into becoming a lieutenant, the two of them hadn't quite returned to their former camaraderie.

"You've certainly proven your loyalty to the department by turning over the suitcase. For that, I'll give you something in return," Rogers offered somewhat magnanimously.

The team assembled to investigate Tony had been required to cut Joe out of the operation, despite him being their new supervisor. They were reporting directly to Rogers, and Joe wasn't allowed access to the case. Watching him now, I saw it was costing him not to be privy to the inner workings of the investigation.

Rogers took a sip of wine and placed his glass down, deliberately taking his time before continuing. "You're right, Joe. We _are_ looking at Paul as the real leader of this operation. We believe Tony was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Joe's body went rigid beside me in the booth. "And you didn't think it important I know this before now?"

"No," came the simple, yet decidedly forceful response from his superior. "You have to admit, Morelli. It would be pretty stupid for us to allow you access to your own brother's investigation. How did we know—?"

"If you could trust me," Joe cut in heatedly. "That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? How did you know if you could trust me." _Uh-oh. Hotheaded Joe was about to make an appearance if he wasn't careful. _Trying to be surreptitious, I placed my hand on his thigh beneath the white tablecloth.

"Yes," Rogers answered bluntly. "Blood counts for something. You know that, Morelli. We had to be cautious—"

"Screw that," Joe's eyes narrowed dangerously. "After all the department put _me _through over that hellacious mess with Kennard, you still don't trust me."

"Brett, I don't think this is the time," Mona interjected quietly.

"Begging your pardon, Mona, but this _is _the time," Joe retorted. "I'm tired of always being in the dark when it comes to my own life and the lives of those I love. Start talking, Rogers. Do you have evidence that Paul is involved with this operation?"

Rogers stared back at Joe, not even disguising his anger over Joe's insubordination. "We do," he said simply.

"What's the evidence," Joe asked through gritted teeth.

"I refuse to go into great detail, but we've been aware of it for about six weeks."

"How?"

"I'm not telling you, so you can forget it," Rogers said dismissively. "That's classified information."

"You don't think I have a right to know? For Christ's sake, we're talking about my brother!"

Rogers leaned back in the booth and assessed Joe coolly. "I'm well aware of that, detective."

"So you're using Tony to try and lure Paul in, is that it?"

"Yes, that's the goal." Rogers wasn't pulling any punches now.

Joe wasn't either. "This is bullshit. How does Tony fit into all this?"

"We believe he somehow caught wind of our investigation and came to warn Paul Friday night—the night of the bust. At some point, he must have told Paul to disappear, and that's why he was standing in the driveway with Myrna Flowers when our team arrived."

"But according to the arrest warrant, Tony was having an affair with Myrna Flowers. What does that have to do with situation? Is Tony involved because of her too?"

"Flowers is having an affair with Paul, Joe—not Tony."

Joe's fist was clenched beneath the table.

Sensing he was about to blow, I jumped in quietly with, "Why didn't you just tell Joe all of this from the beginning? It seems like it would have been a lot easier if he'd known the truth. _That statement was fast becoming the slogan for every facet of Joe's life._

"Loyalty is one of Joe's strong suits," Rogers answered me. "The department knows that. But in this particular instance, we needed to see if his loyalty ran to his family or to his badge."

"I still have questions," Joe said harshly, ignoring Roger's dig. "How long have you suspected Paul?"

"Like I said, this particular operation came to our attention about six weeks ago. From the papers and journal in the suitcase, we've ascertained the group has been dealing drugs _this _time for about six months now."

"But Paul's name is never mentioned in any of the paperwork," Joe pointed out. "What evidence do you have that he's personally involved?"

"I'm not going to reveal that at this time," Rogers repeated forcefully. "You're lucky I'm giving you this much. This investigation is on a need-to-know basis."

Joe opened his mouth to blast him, and I quickly stepped in again. "How does Louie Nagel's death fit into this?" I asked, reaching for my husband's hand. "Why did you let Joe take on _his_ investigation?"

Rogers shrugged. "We didn't know Nagel had any connection to this operation in Trenton until we opened the suitcase. Quite frankly, I was convinced Nagel was going to end up having something to do with _your _job, Stephanie. I had no idea there was a connection between Nagel and Paul. I thought I was being generous allowing Joe to investigate something I believed was connected to you."

"And you _still _don't know there's a connection between Nagel and Paul—at least from what you're telling me," Joe noted. "It seems to me you'd be more forthcoming if you had any solid evidence against my brother. This is sounding more and more like a goddamned witch-hunt. While neither of my brothers would be eligible for 'Boy Scout of the Year', I also _know _neither of them would be capable of killing another human being. Someone else killed Nagel."

"It's entirely possible," Rogers admitted. "But we won't know anything until we talk with Paul."

"Meanwhile Tony's the bait," Joe shook his head disgustedly. "Tell me, sir. How far are you willing to go to sacrifice one brother for the other?"

"Are you questioning my ability as commanding officer, detective?" Rogers' eyes blazed. "Because I'd be careful if you are."

Before I could stop him, Joe countered, "Only as much as you seem to be questioning my ability to be made aware of the truth. It seems we're both lacking trust at this point in time."

"You're out of line, Morelli!"

"And you're out of your mind, Rogers, if you think I'll stand by and let you use me or my brother to lure Paul out of the woodwork without giving me a hell of a lot more to go on here. I _know _my brothers. They may be idiots, but they're not killers. Hell, I'm having a hard of enough time believing Paul is actually involved with this operation. I think something else is going on."

"Joe," I said warningly, squeezing his hand hard.

"Anyone for dessert?" Mona asked sweetly, trying to diffuse the tension. It was futile.

"Thank you both for the dinner, but I believe Stephanie and I will head on home. She tires easily these days," Joe said stiffly. The vein in his temple was bulging from repressed rage.

"Morelli," Rogers floundered. "Joe—"

"Perhaps we should end this now before anything more is said we'll regret," Joe suggested, standing up and encouraging me out of the booth ahead of him.

The Rogers both stood as well. Mona slipped out and gave me a hug, whispering in my ear. "Don't worry, Stephanie. This is all part of being a cop's wife. Cops are passionate men in every way. It's how they live every aspect of their lives. This too shall pass. You'll see."

I nodded, not knowing what else to do or say. This was all still so new to me. I'd never been allowed access to this part of Joe's life before, and I could see now there was much about Joe he'd never granted admission to anyone. In many ways, while I'd been the one to be outright deceitful, he was the one with all the secrets.

Joe shook his boss' hand begrudgingly. "Thank you for dinner, sir."

Rogers nodded his head. "I'll see you at the courthouse tomorrow morning."

We moved to leave, when Joe suddenly turned back. "One more thing—you should know that Tony broke into our house this morning looking for the suitcase. He discovered Stephanie there and practically assaulted her. She told him the case had been turned over to the police. He escaped out the back of the house, and I have no idea where he is now."

"Oh Stephanie," Mona breathed in sympathy.

"Thank you, detective," Rogers acknowledged Joe's honesty with a grim smile. "Let's hope he shows up Monday to that preliminary hearing. I hate to think Paul is going to allow Tony to sacrifice his own life to cover for him."

Joe's eyes narrowed fractionally. "He's been doing it all his life."

* * *

Neither Joe nor I said much as we pulled out of the restaurant's parking lot and headed for home. He was lost in his own thoughts, and I truthfully didn't know what to say to him at this point. No matter which way he turned these days there seemed to be another brick wall.

The sound of my phone ringing filled the uncomfortable silence of the car. Fumbling through my bag, I finally found it and glanced at the Caller ID.

_Ranger._

My heart gave a thud. The last thing I wanted to do was to upset Joe further by taking a call from Ranger, but I'd ignored his earlier text. With the paternity suit in question, there was no sense in ticking Ranger off any further. Pushing the talk button, I said tersely, "Hello?"

"Now you don't even answer my texts? What gives—Eliza?"

_Sigh. _At least he hadn't called me Babe.

"Sorry. I was sleeping most of the afternoon and didn't get your message until it was too late for me to respond. We've been out with Joe's boss and his wife this evening."

"Cozy."

Ignoring the subtle dig, I asked, "What's up?"

"Who's that you're talking to?" Joe asked beside me, coming out of his deep thoughts long enough to realize I was on the phone.

Covering my hand over the speaker, I whispered, "Ranger."

Joe's scowl was evident by the light of the dashboard. "What the hell does he want?"

"I don't know. Let me find out."

"Stephanie, are you listening to me?" Ranger asked in my ear.

"I'm trying to. Say it again."

"I want to know what time you can meet at the doctor's tomorrow. They said they could squeeze us in anytime in the afternoon."

My heart leapt into my throat. "Wait—what? You heard from Dr. Hamilton's Office?"

"Early this evening—around 5:30 p.m. Didn't you?"

"It's probably on the home machine." Turning toward Joe, I said, "The test results are in." I couldn't stop my voice from quivering.

Joe exhaled slowly and reached for my hand across the center console. "Okay," he responded tensely.

"What time, Stephanie?" Ranger asked impatiently. "I need to be able to set my schedule for tomorrow."

"I don't know. Give me a minute," I responded rather testily. We were all edgy. "Joe has court all day tomorrow, so we're all at the mercy of the judge." Addressing Joe again, I asked, "What time do you think you'll recess for lunch?"

Joe mulled it over for a moment. "Tell him we'll see if we can arrange to meet the doctor at Noon."

"I'll call in the morning and ask for Noon," I informed Ranger. "Will that work for you?"

"I'll make it work," he responded tautly. Almost as an afterthought, he asked, "How did you do today with the morning sickness?"

I couldn't help it. My heart clenched at how good Ranger was being to me despite how wretchedly things were turning out between us. I would miss him terribly if we were no longer able to remain friends. Not enough to risk my relationship with Joe, but still, I was praying for a miracle to somehow occur between the three of us.

"Pretty good," I responded. "The Zofran is working."

"Good."

There was a slightly awkward pause. "Stephanie, about tomorrow—"

"Yes?"

"You understand that there are going to be hard feelings no matter which way this thing goes."

"I know," I said softly. "I was just thinking about how sad that makes me."

"What makes you sad?" Joe asked hastily, making no bones about the fact he was eavesdropping.

Covering the phone with my hand, I whispered, "Shh…I'll tell you in a minute."

"It is what it is," Ranger continued. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about our conversation the other day. And I just wanted you to know right now—before the shit hits the fan tomorrow—that I'll always love you no matter what happens."

My throat was completely clogged with emotion. _Damn it! _Honesty or not, I refused to repeat Ranger's statement to Joe, because it would do nothing but hurt him. And I already felt badly enough knowing Ranger was hurting as well.

"Stephanie?" Ranger's voice was prodding me.

I felt Joe watching me out of the corner of his eye as he drove. "Yes, I heard you," I answered. "Thank you."

"But you're not going to return the sentiment, are you," Ranger noted dryly.

"That might not be the wisest of choices," I agreed, and then added hesitantly. "But I do—in a different way."

"What the hell is he saying?" Joe questioned, clearly getting irritated. It was time to wrap up this conversation—and quickly.

There was a slight pause on Ranger's end—this time a little less awkward.

"I'll guess I'll see you tomorrow then," he finally offered.

"Okay."

I was about to disconnect, when I heard Ranger add, "By the way, tell Morelli I'd like my transponder back when he has the time."

"Transponder?"

"Yeah, the one that was underneath your pick-up. It finally dawned on me yesterday that the two of you had switched vehicles after we kept picking you up at the TPD."

_Good grief! I'd completely forgotten the damn thing was still under the vehicle!_

Ranger was still talking, "We picked Morelli's signal up at a car lot today. I'm assuming he traded the truck in, since we've lost the signal. If he'll just tell me where the transponder is I can have one of my men go over and pick it up."

Turning my attention to Joe again, I asked, "Ranger wants to know where you purchased the Avalanche. He wants to send someone over to pick up the transponder that was on the bottom of the pick-up."

Even in the darkness of the car, I could see Joe's unmistakable smirk. "He can't," he answered simply.

"Why not?"

"I took it off before I sold it?"

"So where is it?"

"I crushed it with my foot."

"You what!" I exclaimed.

"Totally obliterated the damn thing. You have no idea how fucking good it felt to do it after all the years of knowing he was keeping tabs on you." He didn't sound the least bit remorseful.

"Wow. Okay then," I said softly, completely stunned.

"He destroyed it, didn't he?" Ranger's matter-of-fact tone was back in my ear.

"Uh—apparently."

Waiting for him to explode, he shocked the hell out of me instead by giving a short, disgusted sigh. "Can't say as I blame the lucky bastard. Later."

_What?_

"Later," I returned dazedly and disconnected.

If I lived to be a hundred, I would never understand the male species, in particular the dynamics between Joe Morelli and Ranger Manoso. But then I was faced with the sobering reality that by tomorrow afternoon I'd finally know which of those two enigmatic men was the actual father of my baby, and my bewilderment turned to apprehension.


	16. Chapter 16

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Happy Friday! Hard to believe it's been a week already since the last time I said those words. Where is time flying?

I'd like to welcome Amy, who joined us during the last chapter. Thank you for your kind review. I wish I could thank you personally. Thanks to ALL of you who have been so faithful about leaving me your thoughts each chapter. Some of you have been with me since the first story, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate your ongoing support.

Speaking of support, if you haven't seen it, there's a new "Cupcake" story in town. My good friend knm2009 has launched a new FF called "A Plum of a Journey". She has an awesome start, and I hope you'll give her some love over there.

Finally, a HUGE thank you to Julie for continuing to provide me with the emotional support and constructive criticism I need to craft each of these chapters. Now if we can just keep those darn diggers away from the computer wires! LOL!

Okay, folks, here we go...

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

I awakened to darkness and the smell of something really noxious near my face.

"Joe," I mumbled irritably. "Joe, turn over."

I could hear him breathing funny.

"Joe! Jeez, how much garlic did you have tonight? Your breath's making me sick to my stomach."

No response met my complaint. Reaching out to nudge him awake, my hand met fur instead, and understanding dawned. Bob had taken over Joe's spot, which meant my husband hadn't come to bed yet. When we'd arrived home following dinner with the Rogers, I'd soon found myself exhausted after taking another Zofran. As a result, Joe had pretty much insisted I get some sleep, although I was fairly certain part of his persistence had been due to wanting some time alone to "process". Only now it was two-thirty in the morning, and he still wasn't lying next to me.

Slipping out of bed, I made my way cautiously downstairs to the living area. Sure enough the television was tuned to ESPN. The sound was turned off, as were the lights to the room, and Joe himself was slouched in the corner of the couch with a bottle of beer dangling from his fingertips. As I moved closer, I could see his eyes were closed, and yet he didn't appear to be asleep.

"Joe?" I called softly.

Immediately his eyes popped open. He looked almost embarrassed.

"It's really late," I said unnecessarily. "What are you doing?"

Of all the answers in the world he could've given me, none would have prepared me for what he said next.

"Talking to God."

_What?_

Now how in the hell—oops heck (sorry God!)—was I supposed to respond to a statement like that? Unfortunately, the best I could come up with was, "Oh?"

"Yeah."

_Okay._ Evidently he wasn't going to be more forthcoming on his own.

"Um—is this a regular thing you do, or is tonight a special occasion?" I asked tentatively. I had a feeling we weren't talking about a couple of Hail Mary's here. This was the real deal. Who knew after all these years there would still be things I needed to learn about Joe Morelli?

"Shit, Cupcake, I don't know a single cop that doesn't pray regularly to some sort of higher authority," he responded tiredly. "If _you_ had to walk into some of the fucking crap we do everyday, you'd be talking to God too." I noticed he'd yet to make serious eye contact with me.

_Hunh. _Seeing as Joe didn't seem to care that he was cursing while talking about God, I decided to stop worrying as well. I sat down gingerly on the other end of the sofa and asked, "So what exactly are you talking to Him about?"

Joe let out a slow exhale. "Everything."

Allowing myself a little inward eye roll, I tried again. "Expand on 'everything', will ya?"

He looked over at me for the first time, and from the glow of the television set, I could see how exhausted he truly was—both mentally and physically. It was like the reprieve he'd received on our honeymoon had never happened, and his stress level was back to where it'd been post Kennard—perhaps even worse.

"I'm just trying to get a handle on everything, that's all—Rogers, Louie Nagel, Tony, Paul—the baby."

I jumped on the last word. "What about the baby?"

He shrugged. "I don't know—the usual stuff I guess. Worrying about you, wondering if I'll be a good father, wondering if—" he stopped and looked away uncomfortably.

"What?" I asked, although I already knew why he'd stopped.

He still didn't answer, so I said it for him. "You're wondering IF you're the father, aren't you?"

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I already told you it doesn't matter to me—"

"Stop."

"I'm serious!" he responded with a hint of attitude.

My natural inclination would have been to allow my own insecurities to dictate a snarky retort, but, thank God, for once common sense prevailed. Slowly scooting across the space between us, I took his left hand.

"Come on, Joe. It's the middle of the night—just you and me. Stop worrying about what the right thing to do or say is and just _tell _me how you're really feeling."

Setting his beer on the end table, he kept his head turned away from me for several uncomfortable moments. Finally turning back, he gave me an almost defiant look and said dully, "I want this baby to be strong and healthy and beautiful, but you're right, Steph—mostly I just want it to be mine."

I couldn't help but cringe at the words. We both knew he was telling the truth, but hearing him say it aloud was still unbelievably difficult.

One corner of his mouth rose sardonically. "Still want the truth?"

Pushing my own insecurities aside, I squeezed the hand I was holding. "Yeah, I do. I know there's more going on inside that head of yours. I'd feel better if everything was out in the open before tomorrow's meeting with Dr. Hamilton and Ranger."

Upon hearing Ranger's name, it was Joe's turn to flinch. He stared down at our enjoined hands and began to play with my fingers, seemingly gathering his thoughts. When he lifted his gaze again, those beautiful brown eyes I knew and loved so much were clearly tortured.

"What if I can't do it, Steph?" His voice was barely audible, and I found myself having to lean closer to hear him.

"What do you mean?"

"Accept the baby," he clarified just as softly. "What if we find out the baby is Ranger's tomorrow, and I can't accept it?"

Dropping my hand, he stood as if mortified he'd actually spoken the words aloud. He began to pace in front of me, his voice slowly getting louder. "I _know_ I've been telling you all along I _can_ accept it, and in my head, I mean it—but 'what if'? What if Dr. Hamilton looks me in the eye tomorrow and tells me I'm going to have to watch you deliver another man's child? Worse yet, what if I fail you by feeling angry or hurt about it? We've come so far in the past couple of days. What if the words 'it's not yours' sends us spiraling backward?"

He stopped and stared at me, looking absolutely terrified. "I can't do it, Steph. I can't live without being connected to you—especially not with all the other shit going on in my life right now. I need you so much, and I'm fucking scared to death I'm going to lose everything tomorrow."

"Lose everything?" I repeated, completely mystified. "Lose what?"

"Lose all that we've gained; lose the right to be this child's father—lose you."

My eyes narrowed. "How could you possibly lose me?"

"Maybe it wouldn't happen right away, but you can't deny there's a bond that happens when two people are having a baby together. You and Manoso will have that bond—whether it's intentional or not. He _will _become part of our lives forever. What if little by little you slip away from me, because the two of you share something that, no matter how hard I try, I can't be a part of in the same way? Don't you see? Regardless of how much we want this to be about the two of us, if Ranger is the father, it'll be about the two of _you_. I will _always _be the odd man out."

My heart simply broke. How long had he been carrying this burden alone? On top of every other stress in his life, how long had he been putting this unnecessary pressure upon himself to keep quiet about his feelings?

I stood, wrapping my arms around his rigid frame, and held on as hard as I could for several moments. "Listen to me," I spoke in a low but fierce tone. "It's _okay_."

He immediately tried to pull away. "No it's not! It's childish and petty and selfish, and I hate every doubt that keeps racing through my mind! We're talking about an innocent child here that deserves unqualified love no matter who the father is!"

Deciding he needed a dose of tough love, I straightened my spine and faced him. "You keep telling me you're human, Morelli. Is that not true? So now what—you're somehow supposed to be above these feelings you're having? Is it somehow beneath you to be scared and sad over the fact I might be having the baby of a man who—together with me—has brought a hell of a lot of pain into your life?"

"Don't go there," Joe snapped, holding up his hand. "Please? I don't want to go down that road again, Steph. We've already traveled it one too many times."

"Fine, but you haven't answered the gist of my question. What makes you better than the rest of us that you can't have these kinds of natural feelings? You think I'm not having them too?"

Releasing him, it was my turn to roam. "You think I'm not obsessed with the notion of how I'm going to handle tomorrow if Dr. Hamilton says I'm having Ranger's child? I've told you I don't _want _to have his baby. Yes, I love him—" Joe's eyes flashed at the word, and I rushed to finish my thought, "in a way reserved for someone who has done a lot for me, but I'm not _in love _with him, Joe."

My voice hitched. "The idea of having _anyone's _baby—other than yours—makes me physically ill. How am I supposed to face you, knowing I've robbed you of the chance to experience the joy of my first pregnancy—knowing it's not even your child?" My voice was sounding choked now, and I was quickly losing control. Furiously I dashed away tears, not wanting pregnancy hormones to add to this emotional mess of ours.

Joe ran his hands through his hair, holding them there briefly, and then dropped his arms at his sides in defeat. "I _hate _this," he said viciously. "I fucking hate the fact that regardless of what happens tomorrow, there won't be any joy."

"What do you mean?" I asked incredulously. "Why on earth wouldn't you be happy if the baby's yours?"

He shook his head, as if trying to figure out how to say the right words. "Don't get me wrong—part of me will be ecstatic if I'm the father. But—and I can't believe I'm saying this—there's also a part of me that will feel like shit for taking this away from Manoso."

I was stunned into silence by his admission, never thinking it would be possible for Joe to feel empathy for Ranger ever again after all he'd endured as a result of my relationship with him.

He gave a rather self-condemning laugh. "I know—crazy, huh? I can't figure it out myself. That's just _one _of the things I've been talking to God about for the past four hours. I don't want to feel sorry for Manoso. I don't want to feel as though I'm taking everything away from him. I want him the hell out of my life!"

"It's not who you are," I finally managed to say. Clearing my throat, I added, "Being vengeful isn't who you truly are. And I think you've just answered your own question."

Joe looked at me in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Taking the steps necessary to put us next to one another again, I looked at him in wonder. "Don't you see? If you have the capacity to feel badly about what this is doing to Ranger, you _more_ than have the capacity to love his child."

"But—"

I cut him off. "Did you mean it when you told me 'if it's part of you—it's part of me'?"

"Yes, I meant it. I _do _mean it," Joe stressed, but I could see the doubt still hanging there. "Like I said before, I know it in my head. But what if when push comes to shove I can't do it in my heart?"

"Are you kidding me? I don't know anyone with a heart that has a greater capacity to love and care than you. My God, look at how you've been loving and taking care of me all these years whether I deserved it or not—and _especially_ since finding out about this baby."

"But what if I can't?"

"You will," I said firmly. "I know it as sure as I know how much I love you, and because of both of those things, I know I'm going to find a way to get through all this too."

Taking Joe's hand I placed it over my abdomen. "Every day I find myself loving this baby more and more. In my wildest dreams, I never thought I could want to be a mother—never. But I do, Joe. I want this baby more than anything, because he or she _is _a part of me now. I can't turn my back on loving this little miracle regardless of who the father is."

"I wouldn't want you to," Joe agreed. His eyes were as intense as his voice. "You wouldn't be the woman I know so well and love so much if you felt any differently."

"But I need _you _in order to do this," I continued just as fervently, "_especially_ if Ranger is the father. Don't you see? If I'm going to be asked to include him in every aspect of this baby's birth and life, I'm going to need to know I have your support—your love—your honesty about how you're really feeling."

"I want to give you all that—and more," Joe acknowledged roughly, running his fingers across my cheek. "God, Steph, I feel like an absolute shit for even having these feelings."

"I'm _glad _you're having these feelings," I stressed. "It shows me you _are _human and that my feelings are okay too. This isn't going to be easy, but as long as we have each other, we're going to do this—one-day at a time. That's all we can hope for."

He let out a growl of frustration. "I don't know. I'm so tired and messed up over everything going on I don't know what I think or feel any more."

Pulling him down onto the couch next to me, I crawled onto his lap and wrapped my arms around him again. It felt good to have him reciprocate the action this time, loving the way he tucked my head beneath his chin.

"It's perfectly normal to be feeling confused, Joe—about everything. It's a wonder you haven't cracked from the stress already," I said soothingly.

"It's just hard seeing everything I've ever trusted and believed in falling apart around me," he admitted. "First our relationship, although that's better now, then my family, my job—this pregnancy."

"I know," I murmured.

He continued right over me. "My first priority is always you, Stephanie—_always. _But it seems like everything else is taking me away from you right now, and I feel like I'm failing miserably as a husband. So that's what gets my mind going down the path that maybe I'll do the same thing as a father." His voice dropped again to an almost indecipherable whisper. "That maybe I'll end up being like _my _father."

I pulled back in astonishment. "Omigod—no! Don't even let that thought enter your mind for a second! You are _not _your father. You're not like your brothers. You're not even like the mythological superhero your mother and grandmother have pigeon-holed you into being." Putting my hands on both sides of his face, I nailed him with my fiercest gaze. "You're Joseph Morelli—my husband—my lover—my very best friend in the world. There is _no one _I'd rather have be the father of my children than you."

"Steph—"

I continued to push, "If you aren't the biological father, to hell with it! We'll find a way to work with Ranger, perhaps even learning how to heal some hurts there. But even if we don't, we won't let semantics stand in the way of finding joy _together _in this child. And if this one isn't yours, we'll have one that is ours some day."

"But we won't love this one any less," Joe asserted determinedly. "Not _any_ less—I swear I'll find a way to live by that vow, Stephanie."

My emotions kicked in, and I found myself with watery eyes yet again. "I know," I agreed, smiling through my tears. "And as for the rest of the crap in our lives, you're not alone, Joe. I'm here to face all of it with you. You have to trust me that you're never going to be alone again. I swear that to _you._"

Using the pads of his thumbs, he slowly wiped away each tear as it began its descent down my face. He finally smiled at me. "Now it's my turn to say something and for you to listen."

"What's that?"

"Are you listening?"

"Of course."

"Good, because I only want to say it once." Tilting my chin with his forefinger, he kept it there in order to fix me with a serious expression. "What you've done for me tonight is _exactly _what a mother does for her child. Do you realize that?"

Without conscious thought, I immediately tried to pull away, but Joe's grasp held my chin in place. "Listen to what I'm saying. You are _already_ a fantastic mother, Steph, so I don't ever—EVER—want to hear you tell me you won't make a good mother again. Got it?"

"But I can't—"

"Who the fuck cares if you can cook or clean or sew or all the other shit you've been brainwashed into thinking makes a good mother? I sure as hell don't!" he exclaimed. "I want to know the mother of my children is loving and caring and smart and fun and willing to admit mistakes and willing to _forgive _mistakes. You're all those things—and more. Don't you see, Cupcake? I want _you_!"

"And you're loving and caring and smart and fun and willing to admit mistakes and willing to _forgive _mistakes. So what does that make you?" I tossed back at him.

Joe gave me the slowest, sexiest smile I'd ever seen. "I guess it makes me a good father," he pronounced decisively.

"Amen," I spoke on a sigh. "There's your answer from God, Joe—plain and simple. I promise you we're going to get through tomorrow—and the next day—and the next—simply because we're going to do it together."

"Okay," he agreed, and we both let out breaths of exhaustion.

Placing a light kiss on his lips, I pushed away slightly and said, "You need sleep. Think you can come to bed now?"

Joe pulled me back and kissed me again, deeper this time. "I need you more than sleep."

My hands moved against the scratch of his evening beard, loving the tactile sensation. "I need you too."

He stood and, lifting me into his arms, made his way toward the stairs and away from our fears.

The Morelli's were ready to face tomorrow.

* * *

Joe and I were both quiet Friday morning as we took turns getting ready for the day. While we were definitely solidified as a united front going into the meeting with Dr. Hamilton, our minds were still filled with our individual worries and doubts. Additionally, I was feeling extra sluggish from not enough sleep and the Zofran I'd taken first thing upon awakening. As a result, my stomach had acted up first thing that morning."

When I finally made my way downstairs to the kitchen after spending some unpleasant time in the bathroom, it was to find Joe leaning against the counter, eyes closed again, eating a bagel.

"Praying again," I asked somewhat cheekily, brushing a kiss on his forehead on my way to the refrigerator.

He let out a short laugh. "No, I was just thinking about how much I miss the sound of Rex on his wheel. It's too damn quiet in here without him. Even with Bob running around the house, it's hard to get used to not having that squeaking sound going all the time."

Upon hearing his name, Bob came tearing into the room and did a full body slam against Joe, almost knocking him over. I was glad for the distraction, because no matter how stupid it sounded; I was still horribly torn up over Rex being gone forever too. It didn't really surprise me that Joe felt the same way. He'd always understood what an important, albeit quiet, part of my life Rex had been.

"Jesus, Bob, watch it!" Joe laughed again—a little longer this time. Smiling over at me, he added, "We're going to have to train him better pretty soon. I hate to think of him doing this to you when you're eight months pregnant!"

I returned the smile, imagining how ridiculous I'd appear stuck on my back on the kitchen floor with the ginormous belly I was likely to have. I'd look like a turtle turned upside down on its shell.

Joe's smile slowly dimmed, and his face took on an expression of concern. "Feeling better?"

I nodded. "I'm fine now. Nothing a little nap this afternoon won't cure."

We both knew there was no way I'd be sleeping this afternoon once we found out the results of the test.

"Think you might have time to drop me off at Bucky's on the way to the courthouse?" I shifted the subject, reaching for the bag of bagels. One glance at the bag and another into the fridge reminded me another trip to the grocery store was going to be necessary soon. "Where's the peanut butter."

Joe made a funny face. "We're out—already." Moving closer to where I stood, he lifted the hair off my neck and leaned in to kiss the sensitive skin there. "Someone I know has become extraordinarily fond of the stuff lately." He gave another well-placed kiss. "And yes, I can drop you off. Can you be back here by nine o'clock though? I've got a guy coming out to change all the locks on the place, and you'll need to be here to sign the paperwork."

"You're changing the locks?" I don't know why, but for some reason the idea didn't set well with me. "You're literally going to lock your own brother out?"

Joe lifted his head and stared at me with eyes that booked no room for argument. "You're damn right I am. I don't want you to feel like a prisoner in your own house by forcing people to have to come and stay with you all the time. And I'm not about to take a chance that Tony _or _Paul breaks in here to harass you some more."

"I don't think that's going to happen," I responded, shaking my head. "Tony was merely looking for the suitcase."

"Maybe—maybe not. Either way, I'm not taking any chances. If Tony doesn't show up on Monday, he's liable to get even more desperate."

Settling on a bagel with cream cheese, I snagged a banana, a carton of orange juice and a box of raisins too. "Ready?" I asked Joe expectantly, who was looking utterly handsome again in a shirt and tie.

He swallowed the rest of his bagel and nodded. "You'll text me once you find out if Noon works for Dr. Hamilton?"

"First thing," I promised. "His office doesn't open until nine."

"Okay, let's roll then," he pronounced, reaching for his keys, wallet and badge.

We were halfway to the door when we both just sort of shuffled to a stop at the same time. Gazing awkwardly at one another, neither of us knew quite what to say.

_Silence._

"I'm scared," I finally confessed quietly.

"Me too," Joe admitted reluctantly. "It's a pivotal day for us."

"I know."

Inside I couldn't help but think of Ranger. At least Joe and I'd had one another to lean upon throughout all of this. Ranger unfortunately would have to face this day and his fears all on his own. Taking a page from Joe's book, I sent up a silent prayer that somehow all three of us would be able to find peace with whatever the news was today regarding the baby.

Joe pulled me into his arms. "Just remember I love you, Cupcake—no matter what."

Breathing a sigh of gratitude, I hugged him back. "I know. I love you too."

* * *

It felt good to have my vehicle back. A quick phone call to Dr. Hamilton's office had confirmed he'd meet with us at Noon, providing the judge didn't hold a longer morning session that would prevent Joe from getting there on time. After meeting with the locksmith at the house and waiting for him to provide me with new house keys, there wasn't a whole lot of time left before I needed to meet Joe and Ranger for the results. I did have a few minutes, however, and so I decided to stop by the temporary bonds office, which was in the same direction.

Lula wasn't there when I walked in the door, but Connie was in her usual position behind her desk, painting her long fingernails a deep purple color. She looked up when I walked in, gave me a smile and teased, "Back already? I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away for long."

Grinning, I replied, "Sorry, but my quitting was the real deal on Tuesday. I was just in the neighborhood now and thought I'd say 'hi'." Leaning against her desk, I shrugged. "So how's it going? I see Lula's out working."

Connie rolled her eyes. "That's all she does. Vinnie's really hurting for help right now. Funny how we were all caught up on skips at the beginning of the week and now we're knee-deep in them again. Vinnie tried to coerce Joyce to do some work, but she told him 'no'. I think the job lost some of its appeal now that she can't compete with you."

"Slut," I said out of the corner of my mouth, and we both laughed.

"Seriously, Steph," She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Vinnie's in a bad way. Lula can handle the low to mid level stuff, but she can't go after those high bonds on her own. Vinnie's had to resort to doing a lot of it himself, which isn't the best scenario either if you recall."

I shuddered, remembering the few times Vinnie had become involved when I'd been working. They'd been adventures in themselves!

Jerking my head toward his closed office door, I asked in an equally soft voice, "Is he here now?"

Connie nodded. "He's in there interviewing some guy to do the high bonds. _Scary _dude," she shivered. "Name's Bruce Jackson, aka Bulldog."

"Bulldog! What the hell kind of name is that?" I snorted out a laugh.

"Don't laugh," she cautioned. "His name is just as creepy as his looks. He's a former bounty hunter from out in LA. I think the nickname comes from the fact he used to ride with the motorcycle gang, the Iron Pigs."

"Iron Pigs!" This was getting funnier by the minute.

"I'm serious," Connie chastised. "They're a notorious motorcycle club of current and former law enforcement people who, depending upon whom you talk to, are referred to as either angels or evil."

"_Hunh_. Pardon me if I'm not impressed," I drawled.

"Oh you'd be impressed," Connie insisted. "The guy has some pretty impressive, albeit shady, credentials. He's known for being somewhat of a renegade bounty hunter, but Vinnie's desperate. Ranger told him he wasn't going after skips anymore. Vinnie says if Bulldog doesn't work out, he's thinking of selling the place and moving to Florida."

"That's what Lula told me. You think he's serious?"

"Believe it or not I do," Connie admitted. "Which would plain suck for Lula and me. I don't want to have to find a new job."

"Well, hopefully it won't come to that," I commented, once more shoving my feelings of guilt over leaving aside. There was nothing I could do about Vinnie's situation or—for that matter—my own.

"How are you feeling anyway?" Connie suddenly seemed to remember why I'd quit. She stood and leaned over her desk to assess me. "You don't look pregnant."

"Thanks," I made a face. "Tell me that again in about six months."

"Seriously, are you okay?"

"Doing better. The doctor has me on some pretty potent medication to try and stop me from throwing up so much. I'm still really tired though."

"Lula told me you've been having your own troubles since you left."

My heart thumped. "What'd exactly did she tell you?"

Connie shrugged. "About the dead guy in your apartment, how Joe's SUV was broken into—you know stuff like that. Is this all related to Tony somehow? He's not going to skip out on us on Monday, is he? Because Vinnie will totally freak if he does."

Taking a calming breath after realizing Lula hadn't spilled the beans about the paternity test, I responded lightly, "There's a lot going on right now with Joe's family. We're hoping Tony doesn't do anything stupid, but I guess we won't really know until Monday."

"If you get bored, you can always come in and do some filing. Lula's out working all the time now, and I could use the help."

"I'll keep it in mind," I nodded. _Like hell I would! _The _last _thing I was going to do with my life was to be a file clerk for Vincent Plum. I'd be a housewife first!

"Lula must be getting pretty good," I noted, surprised at the lack of jealousy I felt. I found myself really wanting her to do well at something.

"The week Ranger had his men here, when you were on your honeymoon, totally transformed that girl. She's really something." Clearing her throat, Connie seemed to feel as though she should offer me a bone as well, "Of course you were really good too, Steph."

"How can you even say that with a straight face?" I asked sarcastically, and we both started laughing. "We both know I was really _lucky!" _Thinking of whom I'd married, my smile grew even wider. "I still _am_ a very lucky girl."

At that moment, the door to Vinnie's office opened and he came out followed by one of the ugliest-looking men I'd ever seen. Older, shorter and fuller than either Ranger or Morelli, his name perfectly described his appearance, as he looked exactly like a bulldog. Apparently still in excellent physical condition, his eyes were dark blue and his hair was shoulder-length and dirty blond in color. An almost equally long handlebar moustache drooped over his full and puffy lips. He was dressed in blue jeans, no shirt and a denim vest that barely covered the massive tattoo of a Bulldog displayed proudly across his hairy chest.

"Oh shit, not you!" Vinnie cried by way of greeting. "What the hell do you want? Haven't you already caused me enough misery already?"

"Nice to see you too," I said dryly with a huge, Jersey eye-roll. "Just passing by."

If I didn't know better, I'd say a shadow of disappointment passed through Vinnie's eyes before he steeled them again. "Well, now that you're out of my hair, I've got a _real_bounty hunter working for me. Meet Bulldog," Vinnie gestured proudly at the man beside him.

"Hey," I gave a little wave.

"Stephanie _used _to work for me," Vinnie emphasized, still scowling at me. "She recently left to marry a cop. Now she's having a baby."

"A cop, huh?" Bulldog assessed me a little more closely. "With the TPD?"

"Uh—yeah. Vice and homicide."

"Joe Morelli," Vinnie offered with a slight sneer.

Bulldog turned and looked at Vinnie questioningly. "Morelli? Ain't that the last name of the guy you said was more than likely to skip bail next week?"

"His brother," Vinnie bared his teeth at me. "And he damned well better show up on Monday."

Suddenly feeling as though I'd overstayed my welcome, I glanced at Connie. "I'll catch you later. Lunch—on me."

"Right," she agreed nervously, feeling the same tension as I had. "Call me."

"Vinnie," I nodded once. "Uh—Bulldog—nice to meet you." I made to move past him, but he was like a wall in front of me.

"Tell your brother-in-law he doesn't want to make the mistake of not showing up on Monday," he said in a voice long abused by nicotine. "He doesn't want me looking for him."

_Who would?_

"Right." I offered a weak smile and fled for the door. _Holy shit! _Wait until Joe heard about this latest development. He'd be guzzling Maalox by the case.

* * *

Twenty minutes later I pulled into the parking lot for Partners in Women's Health. Ranger's Turbo was already here, but I didn't see the Avalanche. Hoping that the judge wouldn't put us off schedule, I got out of the SUV and headed for the waiting room of the medical facility. Inside, Ranger was in his usual alert position, back to the wall, with his nose buried in his mobile phone.

After signing in at the front desk, I dropped into the chair across from him. "Hey," I offered quietly.

Ranger nodded but didn't respond. Wearing his usual enigmatic expression, I had a hard time reading if he was nervous or not. Of course how could he not be? I was sweating so badly, the t-shirt beneath my sweater was sticking to me.

I quickly unzipped my fall jacket, and tried again to initiate conversation. "So I just came from Vinnie's. I heard you aren't going after bonds any longer."

He inclined his head slightly. "My own business has alleviated the need for me to go after the money."

I smiled, not realizing how my words were about to sound. "The thrill of the chase gone for you too?"

Ranger continued to stare at me. "More like the thrill of the chase was taken _from _me."

_Oops. _Ouch.

Feeling flustered, I continued, "Well, he's hired some new guy out of LA. Scary dude named Bulldog. Ever heard of him?"

His eyes widened fractionally. "Scary dude doesn't begin to describe Bruce Jackson."

"You know him?"

"Of him," Ranger corrected. "He plays by his own rules. I'd avoid him if I were you."

_Oh Jeez…what in the hell would that mean for Paul and Tony?_

I was about to ask Ranger's opinion on the subject when Joe arrived. You could literally feel the change in the air, as he made his way over and took the seat beside me. Following a barely perceptible acknowledgement of Ranger, he leaned over and gave me a kiss, whispering, "You okay?"

I nodded, although we both knew I was lying. None of us were okay. We were friggin' basket cases.

"How did it go this morning?" I asked nervously. I'd die if we all just sat there staring at one another until the nurse came.

"Progress," Joe returned. Turning to Ranger, he said in an even tone, "Yours and Tank's names came up in court today. Don't be surprised if you get subpoenaed here soon."

Ranger gave a short jerk of his head, but remained silent. _This was agonizing! _Please God; send the fucking nurse—now!

As if on cue, the door leading to the examination rooms opened and Nurse Joanne appeared. "Stephanie Morelli?" she called.

We all stood, and just as we had the other day, followed her silently through the labyrinth of hallways to Dr. Hamilton's office.

"No examination?" I asked hopefully.

"After you talk with the doctor," she returned stoically.

We took our same positions as the last time we were there and looked at Joanne expectantly.

"Dr. Hamilton will be in shortly," she announced succinctly and closed the door to the office behind her.

I've been in some pretty tense, dramatic and downright horrible situations in my lifetime—particularly as a bounty hunter—but _nothing _I'd ever endured was as torturous as having to sit there with Joe and Ranger and wait for the doctor. You could have heard a cotton ball drop it was so quiet.

After several moments of abject misery, Joe reached over and took my hand, trying to offer me a sense of comfort. When I looked at him, he mouthed the words, 'I love you' before giving my fingers a squeeze. Once again I was struck by the fact that Ranger was enduring this horrific situation alone. Suddenly my doggone mouth opened, and I found myself speaking against my will.

"This is awful—I hate it!" I cried out.

Joe and Ranger shared a stunned look.

"Stephanie—" Ranger began.

"No!" I cut him off. "You two may have never been best friends, but you were at least _friendly_ working acquaintances until I entered your lives. At the very least you had respect for one another. Now look at us! We can all barely stand to be in the same room!"

Hormones got the best of me again, and I burst into tears. I didn't want there to be so much hate around my baby. If Ranger was the father, I wanted the assurance we could all somehow muddle through this incredibly awkward situation together.

"Shhh…Cupcake," Joe leaned across and pulled my shuddering frame into his arms. "It's going to be okay—I promise. We'll work it out. You'll see."

Ranger spoke in challenge. "You going to be _willing_ to work it out, Morelli?"

Joe stiffened against me, but pulled away and looked confidently at Ranger. "I am," he nodded. "And you?"

"I'm still acknowledging paternity if that's what you mean," he stated without emotion, but his eyes glinted in defiance.

Joe nodded again, seemingly nonplussed. "I would hope so."

Ranger's body started slightly. It was obvious he hadn't expected Joe's response. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not stupid. I think you understand what it means. If you're the father, I hope you'd be willing to take responsibility. I'd do the same." Joe continued to run down my back in a soothing motion despite his attention being directed toward Ranger.

"But are you going to fight me for it?" Ranger demanded. He uncrossed his legs and unconsciously leaned toward Joe.

There was a long pause while Joe thought everything through once more. Then he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I won't fight it in court, if that's what you mean. We'll mediate it between our attorneys."

A grudging look of respect crossed Ranger's face briefly before slipping behind his usual mask. "Fine," he responded simply and sat back in his chair once more.

I couldn't stop the surge of love that coursed through me toward Joe. How far the two of us had come in the past five days—both individually and as a couple.

The door opened again, and Dr. Hamilton entered the room, carrying my patient file. He was followed by an attractive woman in her early thirties, wearing a pumpkin-hued pantsuit and matching heels. Her shoulder-length, honey-colored hair was pulled back in a loose chignon, and her light brown eyes were hidden behind a pair of tortoise-shell glasses.

Dr. Hamilton set the file folder on his desk. "Stephanie—gentlemen, I'd like to introduce Cheryl Sullivan to you. She's a family counselor here in Trenton."

_A counselor? _I was still busy trying to wipe away my tears and looked at the doctor in confusion.

Cheryl smiled and said demurely, "I'm sorry to meet you all under such stressful circumstances."

Dr. Hamilton recognized the question in my eyes. "Stephanie, while not common, there _are_ doctors like myself who like to work in consultation with family therapists or psychologists, particularly when delivering difficult news pertaining to infertility or paternity issues. Truthfully, I could just as easily have called you with the results of the test, but I've found through the years it's easier to bring closure to the stress you've been under by doing it face-to-face."

He motioned for Cheryl to take a seat beside him and then sat down himself. "You won't be _required_ to speak with Cheryl, however, I did want to at least introduce her should any of you wish to talk with her at a later time about your reaction to the results."

I don't think any of us had moved a muscle since Dr. Hamilton had begun speaking.

His eyes scanned the three of us. "I'm not going to waste a lot of time on small talk. Once we're finished here, I'd like to do another examination on you, Stephanie, to assess your progress since Monday and to discuss and explore a few other concerns I have. Do any of you have any questions so far?"

We all shook our heads like automatons.

"Do you have questions on the tests themselves? How they were conducted? What we were looking for—things of that nature?"

We shook our heads again. _Just give the damn results!_

Dr. Hamilton opened the file folder. "Okay, well then, the results from the SNP Microarray were one hundred percent conclusive and legally defensible. There is not a shadow of doubt who the biological father is."

He studied the report some more, while Ranger, Joe and I died a thousand deaths in our seats. Finally, he closed the file folder and turned to study Ranger intently, saying nothing.

Nothing.

Ranger leaned forward expectantly.

Nothing.

Meanwhile, Joe and I turned toward one another in mutual wonder and distress in our eyes.

Nothing.

The tension among us all was positively excruciating. Cheryl Sullivan looked on in concern.

Nothing.

I felt the need to clutch my stomach against an overwhelming urge to vomit.

Still nothing.

_Why wasn't the damn doctor SAYING anything! Fuck!_

Still nothing.

I don't know how or why, but suddenly the reason for the silence became crystal clear—at least to Joe and me.

_Still _nothing.

Joe dropped his head back and closed his eyes, slumping slightly in the chair.

_STILL n_othing.

Pressing a fist to my mouth, I choked back a sob.

_STILL NOTHING_.

It was Ranger who finally stated the words aloud that were already etched into our hearts.

"It's mine, isn't it? I'm the father."


	17. Chapter 17

I do not own any of JE's characters.

Well here we are folks at the end of another story. It always feels so bittersweet, particularly with this one. "Truth" has kept me up many a night to be sure. I have a few more things to say in an A/N at the end, but for now I'd just like to say thanks to all of you who've been reading and reviewing so faithfully. And also, unending thanks to my Beta reader Julie for going on the journey with me.

I've included the end of the last chapter just to put you back into "that moment". I hope you enjoy the conclusion of "Truth".

* * *

_Dr. Hamilton opened the file folder. "Okay, well then, the results from the SNP Microarray were one hundred percent conclusive and legally defensible. There is not a shadow of doubt who the biological father is to Stephanie's baby."_

_He studied the report some more, while Ranger, Joe and I died a thousand deaths in our seats. Finally, he closed the file folder and turned to study Ranger intently, saying nothing._

_Nothing._

_Ranger leaned forward expectantly._

_Nothing._

_Meanwhile, Joe and I turned toward one another in mutual wonder and distress in our eyes._

_Nothing._

_The tension among us all was positively excruciating. Cheryl Sullivan looked on in concern._

_Nothing._

_I felt the need to clutch my stomach against an overwhelming urge to vomit. _

_Still nothing._

_Why wasn't the damn doctor SAYING anything! Fuck!_

_Still nothing._

_I don't know how or why, but suddenly the reason for the silence became crystal clear—at least to Joe and me._

_Still nothing. _

_Joe dropped his head back and closed his eyes, slumping slightly in the chair._

_STILL nothing._

_Pressing a fist to my mouth, I choked back a sob._

_STILL NOTHING._

_It was Ranger who finally stated the words aloud that were already etched into our hearts._

"_It's mine, isn't it? I'm the father."_

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Dr. Hamilton slapped his palm lightly against the file folder, and looked at Ranger sympathetically.

"This is one of the most difficult parts of my job, Mr. Manoso. But no, I'm sorry, you are not the father—Mr. Morelli is."

_What?_

No amount of self-control could prevent Ranger from blanching at the news.

_Oh my God…_

Beside me Joe's head snapped back up, his mouth dropping open as he turned to look at me in utter shock. I think we'd both managed to secretly convince ourselves the baby was Ranger's.

_Really?_

Cheryl Sullivan and Dr. Hamilton observed Ranger in joint concern for he'd closed his eyes, completely staggered. In that brief moment, Joe and I looked at one in other in both elation and disbelief. This was OUR baby?

_After all we'd endured_ _could it possibly be true? _

"You're sure?" Ranger opened his eyes again to gaze at Dr. Hamilton intently, trying not to sound desperate.

"There's no question," the physician responded definitively.

_Omigod—it WAS TRUE!_

_It was OUR baby!_

Squeezing Joe's hand for all it's worth, I marveled at the myriad of emotions sweeping through my system—shock, skepticism, despair, sadness, ecstasy—and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. _Thank you God. _The same feelings were moving across Joe's face as well. By unspoken agreement, we refused to show any outward physical expression toward one another. It would've been too cruel. But the way our hands were clamped together—oh dear God—that was symbol enough.

Ranger immediately tried to regain control of his outward appearance, although I could see his hands were still wrapped tightly around the arms of his chair.

"Do you have any questions for me, Mr. Manoso?" Dr. Hamilton asked in a low, tentative voice.

"No." Shooting Joe a look of pure frustration, laced with envy and anger, Ranger's eyes drifted over toward me and slowly softened with regret. "No, I think I've heard all I need to hear. I'll be on my way." He stood to leave. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Hamilton," he said stiffly, extending his hand toward the physician.

"Mr. Manoso," Cheryl Sullivan spoke his name softly. She held out a business card to Ranger. "I hope you'll contact me if I can be of assistance."

"Thank you, but I'm fine," he responded glibly. We all knew he wasn't fine, and I don't think there was a person in the room—including Joe—who didn't feel terrible about the pain Ranger was experiencing.

He turned to leave.

"Wait—" I called out, looking at Joe despondently. I didn't know what to do, but I just couldn't let him leave without—without what? I didn't even know.

Ranger shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with me. "Not now, Stephanie." Seconds later, he was out the door.

I jumped up feeling helpless and hopeless. "Joe—I—" My voice trailed off uncertainly.

He still looked completely dumbfounded at the news. The next words out his mouth shocked the hell out of me even further. "I'll go."

_What? _Was he crazy? The way Ranger had to be feeling there was no telling what he'd try to do to Joe. "I don't think—"

Cheryl Sullivan broke in at the same time with, "I'm not so sure—"

Joe stood. "No, I need to talk to him."

He was at the door in three long strides when Dr. Hamilton's voice stopped him. "Mr. Morelli— Joe—I don't think you're the best person to speak with Mr. Manoso right now."

Joe leveled a determined gaze upon the physician. "I'm _exactly _who he needs to hear from right now. I'm the only one who could possibly understand what he's feeling, because I've put myself in his shoes a million times during the past week. We all know this could just as easily have been me!" And he was out the door after Ranger.

"Joe, wait!" I called out, but he was already gone. Turning toward Dr. Hamilton, I raised a trembling hand and swiped it through my hair in agitation. "I can't believe this. You're sure?"

"It's irrefutable, Stephanie," he replied. Despite the tension of the moment, I couldn't stop the rush of exultation at his words. I was having Joe Morelli's baby!

"I understand this is very stressful for you," Dr. Hamilton continued, "and you must be feeling many different emotions right now. Do you want to take a moment to talk with Cheryl alone?"

_Uh no. _I wanted to go out and make certain my husband and former lover didn't beat the shit out of one another. "I have to go," I said tensely, moving toward the open doorway.

Cheryl stood as well. "I'll go with you."

Waving her off, I shook my head. "Thank you for the offer, but no. It would be best for me to handle this. Joe and I will be right back," I directed toward Dr. Hamilton.

He nodded. "I'll have Joanne get the examination room ready."

I was out the door and down the hallway, practically running to catch up with Ranger and Joe. _Where had they gone? Why on earth had Joe felt HE should be the one to talk to Ranger? What could EITHER of us possibly say to him? _My mind was having trouble processing anything right then. As elated as I was to know this baby was indeed a Morelli, my heart was breaking for Ranger at the same time.

I was about to turn down another hallway when I heard Ranger's voice. Freezing, I put my back against the wall and peeked around the corner to see that Joe had somehow gotten ahead of Ranger and was blocking his path.

"What the fuck makes you think I want to hear _anything _you have to say, Morelli! Get out of my way—now!"

"Will you just shut up for two seconds and listen to me?" Joe demanded.

I couldn't figure out if Joe was being brave or just plain stupid to try and talk with Ranger after he'd been dealt one of the worst blows of his life. In fact, it was a wonder Joe was still standing. Knowing how upset Ranger had to be, I was surprised he hadn't already resorted to a physical confrontation. His self-control had to be obliterated by now.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Ranger asked in bewildered anger, his body stone still and his fists clenched at his side. "You just got _everything_. Leave—me—the fuck alone!"

"I didn't get everything," Joe replied steadily. He was using his cop's voice—calm, steady and emotionless—to try and defuse the situation. "Believe me."

"What the hell are you babbling about? For Christ's sake, you married her, didn't you? You used that goddamned history of yours and convinced her to turn her back on everything she'd been building with her life on her own—"

Joe exhaled loudly in frustration. "No. I didn't. Would you just let me say—?"

"Now you have the baby too, and, with it, you'll push her even farther away from me. Are you truly that much of an idiot? What the fuck could you possibly say to me right now I'd want to hear?"

"How about the fact that I'm sorry."

_What? _I couldn't believe what I was hearing!

Obviously Ranger couldn't either. "What the hell is this? Don't patronize me, Morelli. Go back to your wife and your kid and leave me the fuck alone. I'm serious, goddamn it. Move—NOW!"

"I _am _sorry," Joe insisted, still not backing down. He wasn't stupid though. I could see he had his own fists ready to use if necessary. "I'm sorry it's all come to this."

Ranger fairly growled. "Have you lost your fucking mind? What are talking about?"

"If you'd just shut up and listen to me, I'll explain," Joe spoke calmly. "I've spent more time than I care to admit lately thinking about you, me and Stephanie and all that's happened between the three of us—going all the way back to the beginning. For so long, I put the blame on you for what I considered to be poaching. Then I was furious with Stephanie for succumbing to your advances. But—and I haven't even told Stephanie this—there's a hell of a lot of things I did wrong along the way too. The biggest of which was not having married her when I had the chance the first time. None of this shit would have happened had I not been so foolishly scared of marriage."

Ranger wasn't even trying to hide his disgust. "Do you really think I give a flying fuck about what you think or feel or want to get off your chest—especially right now?"

"Keep listening," Joe insisted harshly. "I've spent more time hating your guts than is probably healthy in the past couple of years. Instead of doing something about it, I sat back and allowed it to happen—like waiting for a train wreck. Because of it, Stephanie _did _develop real feelings for you. I'm not stupid. She says she's in love with me, and I believe her. But that doesn't stop her from loving you."

_Omigod—what was he doing? What was he saying! _I didn't know whether to be furious or flabbergasted.

"It's not the same kind of love," Ranger spat. "And you damn well know it. What kind of sick bastard are you to want confront me like this?"

"One who knows his wife is hurting—badly," Joe returned evenly. "No matter how much Stephanie loves me, there will always be this piece of her that belongs to you—whether she's willing to admit it or not. Do I think she'll act upon those feelings? No. I don't even think they're sexual anymore." His voice softened considerably. "But she will always see you as her mentor, her champion—the one who showed her she could be tough and brave and so many of the other amazing qualities we _both_ love about her."

_Foolish girl. Look at what your selfish indecisiveness has caused these men. _I practically had to shove my fist into my mouth to keep from making a sound that would give away my presence.

"Why do you want to take those qualities away from her then?" Ranger asked, crossing his arms defiantly across his chest.

"I don't," Joe insisted. "I'll admit there was a time when I thought she'd be safer doing something else, but that's because she wasn't trained and had unreliable back-up. You have no idea how many times I've been scared out of my goddamned mind over her safety. If something had happened to her, it would have destroyed me. But her abilities did improve, and had the doctor not told her to quit, I had no intention of asking her to give up bounty hunting."

Ranger snorted. "The hell you say!"

"It's true," Joe shrugged. "You can ask Stephanie yourself. I don't want to control her, Manoso. She wouldn't be the woman I love if I changed her."

_Oh God, I love you too, Joe! _My heart hurt from all he was having the guts to reveal.

"Then why are you preventing her from coming near me?" Ranger challenged. "Before the wedding you said you weren't going to stop her from remaining friends with me."

"I also didn't know at the time she was possibly pregnant with your child now, did I?" Joe said dryly. "There's no doubt my pride has pushed my feelings into the red zone this past week. You think I _like_ knowing there's something about you that fulfils something in her—something that I can't?"

_He was getting it all wrong! He did fulfill me—completely! _I wanted so badly to get in there and be a part of this conversation—to set the record straight, but it wouldn't do a damn bit of good. This was beyond me. It had become about the two of them.

"What's your game?" Ranger asked coldly. "Why the hell are you telling me all of this now? You just got _everything _you could possibly dream of in Stephanie and the baby. You've now succeeded in pushing me completely out of her life. Is this some kind of weird-ass, Italian victory dance of yours or what? You want to rub my nose in it a little more? Well fuck you! It won't work."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Haven't you figured out I'm trying to tell you that you were right, Manoso? If you'd just put your anger aside for one minute, you'd hear me saying you were right about something."

"About what?" Ranger threw his hands up in frustration. "Would you just say whatever the fuck it is you think you need to—in _plain _English—so that I can get out of here? I'm done with this shit—all of it."

Huddled around the corner, I felt a moment of sheer panic. _Did Ranger mean he was finished with our friendship too? _

"You were right all the times you told Stephanie I was a good cop, but an idiot," Joe admitted in a halting voice, and I think both Ranger and I about fell upon hearing the words.

"She _told _you I said that?" Ranger asked in astonishment.

Ignoring him, Joe continued, "I _was_ an idiot—for not treating Stephanie the way she deserved when we were kids, for waiting so many years to find her again, for not marrying her when I had the chance, for allowing you to get close to her, for not always trusting in her abilities—all of it."

Leaning my head against the wall beside me, I closed my eyes, completely baffled by Joe's confession.

Ranger was silent for several, heated moments. There was no doubt he was still one swing away from taking Joe on for a fight. Finally, he questioned in a tone that suggested he didn't believe a single word being spoken by my husband. "Why are you doing this, Morelli? Seriously—cut the bullshit. What are you hoping to gain by this little declaration of yours?"

"Nothing," Joe replied adamantly. "Other than to tell you I honestly feel badly about your having been caught up in this scenario all these years. I'd still like to beat the shit out of you for sleeping with Stephanie, but the fact remains we were _all _culpable in our little triangle."

Ranger didn't respond, and so Joe continued, "Had I not finally wised up and kicked my ass into gear with Steph, things could just have easily been turned around today. It could be _you_ with her and that could be _your_ baby, and I could be the one walking out the door. I _feel _that, Ranger. I _get _how goddamned lucky I am. So in answer to your question—no—this isn't about rubbing your nose in anything. It's about me feeling badly you're the casualty of war in this whole mess. More importantly, it's about me telling you I won't let Stephanie or our child down. You can count on that. I _will _love both of them—with everything I am—for the rest of my life."

Tears were streaming down my face. _Who was this man I married? How could he have ever have doubted his heart had the capacity to love another man's child? _My God, he was even willing to sacrifice his male pride for me.

"You about done?" Ranger demanded sullenly. He obviously hadn't been impacted by Joe's little speech the way I had.

"Almost," Joe acknowledged with a slight nod. "While I know that Steph loves me with everything _she _is too, I don't want her to have to hide from me her feelings for you any longer. I'm not standing in your way of remaining in her life in whatever capacity you two manage to determine works for you—" he paused to hold up his hand, "as long as you can show me a little respect too. That includes no calling her Babe and no keeping tabs on her any more." He paused and his face morphed into scary, homicide cop Joe. "And if you so much as lay a finger on her with the intention to poach—I'll make your life a living hell, and you know I'll find a way—legally or otherwise—to do it."

"You really think I believe any of this? Do _YOU _even believe what you're saying?" Ranger scoffed.

"The ball's in your court," Joe tossed back at him. "And for what it's worth, Steph and I both feel the pain of what today has cost you. I _am_ sorry."

Ranger stared at Joe for a beat longer and then pushed past him to continue toward the lobby. Joe exhaled all the tension he'd been holding for the past several minutes and looked up at the ceiling in frustration.

_What was I supposed to do? _Return to Dr. Hamilton's office before Joe knew I was standing there? Pretend I hadn't heard everything? Confront him? I stood there hastily debating my options when he spoke in a wry voice from around the corner.

"I know you're there, Cupcake, so you might as well show me that beautiful, pregnant face of yours."

My eyes immediately narrowed. _He knew I'd been there all along? Why that—_

Joe rounded the corner and swiftly trapped me between his warm, hard body and the wall. "Do you have any idea how totally, completely and insanely in love with you I am, Mrs. Morelli?"

"How did you know—?"

He made a funny face at me. "That you were there listening?" Dropping a kiss on my nose, he went on, "Because no one knows you better than I do. There's no way in hell you were going to stay put in Dr. Hamilton's office and not find out what was going on out here. Besides, I'm a cop, trained to be aware of my surroundings, and your big blue eyes and curly brown hair were fairly easy to spot peeking around the corner."

_Hunh—so much for my skills at avoiding detection! _But then I felt a moment of dread. "Do you think—?"

"Ranger didn't know you were there," Joe assured me, reaching out to play with one of my curls. "For one thing his back was to you. And as upset as he was, his internal radar wasn't functioning all that well." He paused. "He's really hurting, Steph."

"I know," I responded softly. Deciding to confront what he'd said to Ranger head on, I added, "I'll never be able to thank you for what you did just now. That took a lot of courage to be willing to sacrifice your pride like that."

He shook his head. "Not really—what I told him was the truth, and I did it for me too. It's what kept me up most of last night talking to God. I've been denying my role in what happened between the three of us for too long now. I made my share of mistakes—we all did."

"You were wrong about one thing though," I noted seriously.

"What's that?" he asked, eyeing my lips. His attention had already drifted from our conversation.

"You more than fulfill me," I pledged. He tried to shake his head again, but placing my hands on either side of his face, I stopped him, adding, "I appreciate the fact you understand I want to maintain my friendship with Ranger, although it's questionable whether we'll be able to do it now or not. But if push came to shove, I could live without him in my life." Staring into my husband's eyes, I whispered the truth. "I could never live without you, Joe."

"And you won't have to," he promised gently. "I don't think you'll have to live without Manoso either. He needs time, Steph, but he'll come around. You mean too much to him. He'd never turn his back on you completely."

There was a slight pause as we looked at one another uncertainly.

"Do you think it's okay to feel glad for _us_ now," I asked timidly.

"Christ, I hope so," he answered fervently, "because I'm so goddamned happy I'm about ready to bust out of my skin." A slow grin spread across his entire face, lighting up from within. "We're having a baby, Cupcake—an honest to God Baby Morelli!"

I gave a little shriek when he swooped me off the ground and spun us in a little circle right there in the hallway. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I found his mouth and proceeded to let him know just how thrilled I was too. If only it could have been like this when I first found out I was pregnant five days ago—if none of this other pain could have happened. But it had, and I needed to find a way to move beyond my guilt over what I'd done to both Ranger and Joe. Instead I needed to look to the future with the father of my baby—OUR baby.

Joe was still exploring my mouth voraciously, releasing all of his pent-up fear and insecurity into a mind-blowing kiss. I think we could have stayed in that hallway forever such was our absorption in one another. It took the sound of someone clearing her throat to break us apart. Turning our heads at the same time, we saw Cheryl Sullivan standing there, trying to look professional but having a hard time not grinning herself.

"I thought I'd make sure you all were doing okay before I head back to my office," she announced in a friendly tone. "I take it Mr. Manoso left?"

Joe allowed me to slide down his body, so that my feet were once more touching the ground. His arm stayed around me though, as he replied, "Yeah, he left a couple of minutes ago."

"Was he okay to drive?"

"He's very upset—mostly angry at me," Joe acknowledged, "but, yes, I think it was safe for him to drive."

Cheryl's expression showed she was still thinking about Ranger, until she gave her head a little shake and concentrated on us. "How about the two of you? Is there anything you need from me?"

"We're okay," I answered with a smile and a quick glance at Joe. "It's hard, because we both feel badly for Ranger, and yet we can't help but feel ecstatic knowing this is indeed our baby."

Returning my smile, she nodded, "And that's okay, Stephanie. You have a right to feel joy over the news. You've all been through a horrible ordeal, and it _is _hard, and it _is _painful, but that doesn't negate the joy."

_Joy._

During our middle-of-the-night discussion last night, it was the one emotion Joe and I had been most terrified we wouldn't be allowed to feel today. And yet, here it was spiraling throughout our systems at a dizzying speed—JOY!

Joe held out his hand to shake hers. "Thanks for checking on us, but I think we're going to be fine," he assured the therapist.

Cheryl took the opportunity to slip her business card into his outstretched fingers. "Call me if that changes, okay? Sometimes emotions don't fully hit you until after you've had a chance to digest things for a few days."

Hearing those words made me realize at some point it would probably be good for Joe to speak with a professional about all he was being forced to endure beyond the paternity issue. Just because he was elated right now didn't eliminate all of the hell going on with the rest of his life.

_Sigh._

First things first—for this one moment we were going to feel joy. _Joy!_

"Well, if you're sure you don't need me, I'll be on my way," she smiled again. "Congratulations to you both, by the way. You're a beautiful couple."

Joe and I couldn't help but grin like fools at one another. We were a beautiful couple who were going to have a beautiful baby—together!

"Dr. Hamilton asked me to let you know the examination room is ready whenever you are," Cheryl said. With a slight wave of the hand, she finished with, "Take care."

I watched her walk down the hallway while Joe glanced at his watch worriedly. "Shit, it's almost twelve thirty already. I'm liable to get paged back to court any time now. Let's see if we can hurry Dr. Hamilton along. I don't want to miss anything."

We quickly found the examination room, and once again Joanne had the awful, scratchy gown ready for me to wear, which resulted in my next dilemma. I still wasn't all that comfortable with the idea of having the doctor give me such a personal examination in front of _anyone_. And yet, I didn't want to exclude Joe—especially not right now.

He immediately sensed my insecurity. Putting his lips close to my ear, he said softly. "I know it's awkward, Steph, but I don't want to miss a single thing. Please?"

How could I deny him the right to be a part of every bit of this exciting journey we were about to take together—especially after all he'd done for me? Blushing slightly, I nodded. "I want you to stay."

Joanne handed me the gown. "Dr. Hamilton would like to do urine and blood tests again. We'll do those first, and then you can go ahead and slip this on."

By the time we were finished with all of the prep tests, it was twelve forty five when Dr. Hamilton finally made his way into the room. I noticed Joe had been surreptitiously checking his watch and his pager every few minutes during the testing process, but he remained silent.

"Okay," Dr. Hamilton smiled, setting my patient file down on the side table. Moving to the sink to scrub his hands, he said, "How are you both doing now that the shock has worn off?"

Joe and I smiled goofily at one another. _Would we ever be able to stop? _"We're okay," I finally spoke for the two of us. "It's difficult, knowing how much Ranger is hurting, but it's hard to not feel happy for us at the same time."

Dr. Hamilton nodded. "Completely understandable." He moved over to stand at the foot of the examination table. "Frankly, I'm just relieved to have the whole matter settled, so we can concentrate on you and the baby."

Joe cleared his throat nervously and reached over to take my hand. "You've said twice now you have concerns. We tried not to think about it too much in the midst of the paternity test itself, but now we'd really like to know what's going on."

"How about we take a look at everything first, and then we'll talk," Dr. Hamilton suggested, reaching out to put the stirrups in place.

"How about you tell me why you're avoiding the question?" Joe shot back quietly, quickly slipping into cop mode. _Uh-oh. _Poor Dr. Hamilton had no idea what he was up against with my over-protective husband.

Giving his hand a squeeze in warning, I said, "Maybe some of the doctor's concerns can already be alleviated by the results of today's tests."

Joe rolled his eyes, but gave a little hand gesture indicating Dr. Hamilton should proceed. He immediately went to work.

"How's the nausea?" he asked with his head and hand both practically shoved up around my neck _inside_ my body. _God, it was embarrassing! _

"Better. It comes and goes, depending on how much sleep I get and if I'm feeling stressed or not," I told him with slightly gritted teeth. _Was he done yet?_

"Have you been experiencing stress outside of the paternity test?" He was still down _there._

I wanted to laugh. _If only he knew! _

"There's some issues going on with my family right now," Joe offered on my behalf, "but we're working on alleviating those." _Bless that man! _I was not up for another lecture at the moment—at least not until Dr. Hamilton removed his hand!

"How's the appetite. Are you eating good foods rich in iron?"

"I'm trying."

"Good." Pulling back, he glanced over at my chart. "Your hemoglobin hasn't changed much at all, but that's to be expected. It typically takes several weeks to notice a marked improvement with anemia. Are you resting when you can?"

"Yes."

"And did you quit your job as I suggested?"

I sighed. "Yes. I'm doing everything you've asked of me. So what's wrong?" Now _my _anxiety level was building.

Dr. Hamilton put his finger up to indicate 'one moment' and left the room.

"What the hell's going on?" Joe demanded exasperatedly as soon as the doctor had disappeared.

"I don't know, but now I'm getting scared."

He was standing next to my head and bent down to give me a kiss, brushing my hair off my forehead just like his mother had done for me the day before. I couldn't help but smile secretively.

"What are _you_ smiling about?" he uncertainly.

"Nothing," I smirked back. "You just reminded me of Angie right now. I never realized how alike you and your mother are."

One eyebrow went up. "Better than the alternative, I guess," he glowered dismissively. "I _never_ want to be like my father." Taking another glance at his watch, he muttered. "I wish he'd hurry up. They're going to call me back any minute now. I know it."

As if on cue, the door opened again, and Dr. Hamilton came in followed by his nurse, Joanne.

"Stephanie, I'm going to do a couple of different ultrasounds now—both transabdominal and transvaginal," the physician declared with a smile. Joanne was already busy pulling out instruments and corresponding machinery. There were a couple of red flags that came in with your blood work, and I want to take a visual look to see what's going on."

I flashed Joe an anxious look. "Is it normal to do this?"

"Is it safe?" he was already asking before I'd finished speaking.

Dr. Hamilton nodded. "Both normal and safe. I don't want to alarm you, so try and relax. I'm not anticipating anything horrible here. I just want to check a couple of things."

"Why won't you just share with us what those _things_ are?" Joe asked, frowning. "It seems like we could relax a lot more if you'd simply tell us what's going on."

The doctor gave a short laugh. "Because I've dealt with hundreds of first time parents, and I know what to expect if I start giving out too much information too early. Okay, Joanne's going to put some jelly on your abdomen, Stephanie, and then we'll take a look. Ready?" He picked up some sort of paddle-like thingamabob.

"What's that?" I asked, my eyes getting bigger.

"It's called a transducer," he replied absently, already intently looking at the monitor in front of him.

I could see Joe craning his neck to see what was going on the screen.

"What do you see?" I asked him, pulling his head down to talk more privately.

"Hell if I know," he muttered. "It looks like a bunch of waves and blobs to me."

We waited for what seemed like _hours _while Dr. Hamilton turned the transducer first one way and then another. _Finally _he said, "One of things I suspected is true. Both times I did your pelvic I had a hard time getting to your uterus, and, as I thought, it's because it's tipped."

"Is that bad?" I asked automatically.

"Not really. It shouldn't affect delivery at all. Usually if someone has a tipped uterus, pregnancy can actually straighten it out again. But if it hasn't happened by now, there's a good chance yours will stay tipped. All it means for today is that I can't see everything I'm looking for, so I'll have to rely on the transvaginal ultrasound."

He removed the transducer and reached for another instrument from Joanne. This one looked like a long thin wand. I had a bad feeling about it as soon as I laid eyes on the dumb thing.

"Where's that going?" I questioned nervously.

"I'm going to insert it into your vagina," Dr. Hamilton returned calmly. He set about preparing the instrument.

_Oh Shit. _"Somehow I don't think this one's going to blow my hair back," I mumbled under my breath, remembering the vibrator from Grandma Mazur's bag of sex toys on our honeymoon. Joe heard my sarcastic remark and immediately started cracking up.

"Something wrong?" Dr. Hamilton asked, giving my husband a quizzical stare.

Joe was coughing into his sleeve, trying to regain his composure, and shaking his head at the same time. "No, I'm fine. Sorry." He leaned down and whispered next to my ear. "You'll have to be sure to give your grandmother a comparative analysis between the two." He then shifted his head and kissed me gently. "I love you, Cupcake. You doing okay?"

I nodded, so thankful he was there with me. I was starting to get worried though. It was pushing one o'clock. There was no way he'd be able to stay much longer, and I really wanted him there to hear the results of Dr. Hamilton's 'concerns'.

Once Dr. Hamilton inserted the wand, he again observed the monitor closely. After several minutes, he turned it slightly and said, "If you look closely—right here—" he pointed at the machine, "you can see your baby's heartbeat."

_What? Omigod!_

Joe and I were both positively awestruck. I couldn't think of a single other word for it. There in front of us was this tiny little blob, and in the middle of it was a slight pulsing sensation. My God! I thought I'd come to grips with the fact there was something growing inside of me, but until seeing the throbbing, rapid beat of that pulse I'd not really thought of it being alive. Right now—inside of me. And the love of my life had put it there!

I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt Joe gently brushing away the tears. Although he was trying to hide it, I could see his eyes were moist with emotion as well. It was nothing short of a friggin' miracle in both our minds. How could I have even thought for one moment last Sunday that I should consider getting rid of this beautiful thing? Closing my eyes in shame, I silently begged my baby to forgive me, knowing I'd never again take for granted what I'd been blessed with.

"One hundred and seventy five beats per minute," Dr. Hamilton confirmed. "Nice and strong."

Joe's pager chose that exact moment to go off, and we both groaned—loudly.

"What's the matter?" Dr. Hamilton asked. He'd been busy writing in my patient chart.

"I'm being called back to court," Joe informed the physician. "I need to go—right now."

"Court?"

"Joe's a detective with the TPD." I explained hastily. "He's testifying in some cases today."

"Morelli—of course! I should have put two and two together. You're the detective that was responsible for bringing down that drug business with the mayor last month."

"That's right," I confirmed proudly. "He's being called back for the afternoon session."

Dr. Hamilton frowned. "You can't wait fifteen more minutes? He looked back at the screen. We're not finished."

Joe looked at both of us regretfully. "I'm sorry. I can't even wait one more minute. You don't put off a judge—at least not this one." Bending down again, he squeezed my hand and kissed me. "I'm sorry," he repeated, looking completely torn. I knew it was killing him to have to go.

"It's okay," I nodded stoically, while inside I was cursing the judge, the attorneys, the stupid police officers on trial—Kennard—anyone I could think of who was messing this up for us.

"I'll meet you at home as soon as I can," he promised, giving me one last kiss and heading for the door.

"Mr. Morelli," Dr. Hamilton sounded gruff. "Don't you think your place is here with your wife? I need to go through some things with you."

Joe gave him a look like he was crazy. "Not unless Steph wants to go through this pregnancy by herself. It won't do any of us any good if I'm arrested for contempt of court!" He turned to leave again.

"Wait!" I cried out. "On the side of my purse is a set of house keys for you—just in case you get home before I do."

He grinned. "Right. Thanks." Quickly locating the keys, he was out the door in a flash.

The doctor was still shaking his head in disbelief—probably wondering why the heck I had to give my husband keys to our house. _Oh well. _It wouldn't be the first time someone thought that Joe and I were lunatics.

"Do you want to reschedule for later?" Dr. Hamilton asked me tersely. "I think it's important you two hear what I have to say together, so that I can answer any questions you're liable to have."

Thinking about what else waited for us at home—primarily the mess with Joe's family—plus the fact I would die if I didn't know what was going on with my baby soon, I shook my head. "Go ahead and tell me now. If Joe has questions later, we'll come back on Monday."

He shrugged. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

Once Dr. Hamilton finished with me, I immediately went out in search of a late lunch. My appetite had truthfully been nil, but after what I'd learned at the appointment, I'd had no choice but to eat. Afterward, I'd driven aimlessly throughout the area, trying to wrap my mind around the scary road that lay ahead of me and how I was going to tell Joe about the doctor's concerns as well as my own.

For some unknown, purely subconscious reason, I ended up in Princeton at the Babies "R" Us store where I spent the next two hours meandering the aisles. This alternative universe of diapers, bibs, strollers, cribs, wipes and about a zillion other things was about to become my reality for the foreseeable future. While the greater part of me was still on cloud nine following the news Joe was indeed my baby's father, a selfish, yet very real, part of me was still resisting the idea of changing my free-spirited lifestyle to accommodate someone who would be completely dependent upon me. In my heart I knew I needed to find something else to fulfill me outside of the motherhood, otherwise I was bound to become resentful. I still didn't want to be a Burg housewife, but would Joe truly understand once he heard what the doctor had said?

It was nearing five o'clock when I pulled into our driveway, and I was surprised to see the Avalanche already parked there. Joe hadn't informed me he was finished at the courthouse. I guess he'd planned on surprising me by getting home early. Suddenly I realized I'd been wandering around in a daze since leaving the doctor's office and hadn't bothered to turn my cell phone back on after our appointment. _Oops! _I winced inwardly, hoping Joe wasn't too panic-stricken by now.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the shopping bag beside me, climbed out of the SUV and made my way to the front door. No sooner had I unlocked it and stepped into the house when I was met by the one of the most joyous sounds I'd ever heard—the sound of Rex's wheel squeaking round and round.

_WHAT! _

Dropping everything right there in the entryway, I literally ran into the kitchen.

"Steph, is that you?" Joe's voice came from upstairs.

I couldn't even answer him. My eyes were glued to Rex's cage back in its place on the countertop next to the fridge. A soup can was in there, along with fresh litter and a couple of carrots. And on the wheel itself, running at a steady clip was Rex! Okay, so logically I knew it wasn't _really_ Rex, but it looked just like him—and no, not all hamsters look alike! Slowly making my way to the cage, I put my hand inside, waiting to see if whoever this was would come see me. Sure enough, he paused on the wheel, his little whiskers twitching madly, and hopped off to tentatively explore my hand.

"His name's RJ," Joe spoke lazily from behind me. I hadn't even heard him come down the stairs.

Pulling my hand out of the cage, I turned with happy, hormonal tears running down my face. "What—?"

He shrugged from where he stood leaned up against the wall by the stairs. He looked beyond sexy in a pair of blue jeans and a thermal Henley. "I couldn't take that awful silence anymore, so I stopped off on my way home to see my friend with the pet shop. I looked every hamster over three times, and this was the one who looked most like Rex. I figured we could name him RJ, seeing as he looks just like the best hamster that ever lived."

That made me cry even harder, and Joe's expression immediately grew concerned. "Oh shit—I screwed up, didn't I? Too soon?" He pushed off the wall and moved toward me hesitantly. "I'm sorry, Steph. I should have thought—"

"He's perfect!" I burst out on a sob. "Tha—thank you."

Joe still looked doubtful as he pulled me into his arms. "Seriously, Cupcake, we can take him back—"

I shook my head vigorously. "No, he's perfect." Wrapping my arms around his neck, I gave him a rather watery kiss. "Thank you."

He shrugged again, this time a little self-consciously. "I just want you to be happy—that's all. I know we've been all over the place emotionally lately, but I want us to start finding ways to be happy in the midst of all the crap around us. Getting RJ seemed like a good place to start."

Letting out a small sigh, I leaned my head against his chest. "Do you realize that a only week ago tonight we were lying on the beach in Barbados feeling the end-of-vacation blues and wondering what life would be like for us when we got home?"

Joe's chest moved beneath my cheek in a short laugh. "Yeah, and a week before that we were having the rehearsal dinner."

I continued the thought, "And the Friday before that was the night before we got engaged."

"And three weeks before that was when you brought down The Rug."

"And the week before that I'd just gotten back from Hawaii."

Joe lifted my chin up, so that he could see my face before placing his hand over my abdomen. "And sometime during the week before that you and I created this beautiful baby together." He closed his eyes in wonder. "I still can't believe it, Stephanie. It's _mine._" He ran a finger across my lips. "It took everything I had to concentrate in court today. My mind is just filled with you two." He leaned in and gave me a much more thorough kiss than the one I'd given him. "I love you so much. What did the doctor say after I left?"

Reality crashed back and my heart started to skip faster. Pulling away slightly, I said, "I promise to tell you everything, but there are a couple of things I want to give you first. One of them is in the back of the SUV though, and it's too big for me to carry. Do you mind bringing it in?"

Naturally he opened his mouth to question me, but I silenced his lips with my finger.

"Christ, you're as bad as Dr. Hamilton drawing everything out like this," he groused. "Just tell me."

"Nothing is life-threatening, Joe. Please?"

Seeing that I wasn't about to give in, he rolled his eyes and gave a little huff. "Fine."

I grabbed the other bag from where I'd left it in the entryway and went into the living room to wait for him. Joe soon came in, hefting a huge, wrapped box in his arms. "What the hell's in here?" he complained loudly.

Ignoring him, I shoved the coffee table aside, in order for him to set the box down in front of the couch with a thud. "Where's Bob?" I asked curiously.

"Out on his chain in the backyard. I was afraid he'd be a little overexcited when he saw you with RJ. Sibling rivalry, you know," he quipped with a wink. He plopped down on the couch and drew me onto his lap. "Okay, enough with the delays—tell me what's going on with the baby." He was trying hard to keep his face neutral, but I could see the worry in his eyes.

"First, I want you to open _your_ presents." I handed him the plastic bag from ShopRite.

"Come on, Steph—"

"Open it," I glared at him.

He gave a brief growl of frustration, but did as I asked. As soon as he opened the bag, however, his face turned wistful and rather sad. Beside us on the couch he dumped out ten pregnancy sticks—all with various symbols showing I was indeed pregnant.

"I'm having your baby, Joe," I announced softly.

One corner of his mouth turned up slowly, thinking back to last Sunday when he'd looked at ten other pregnancy sticks and had received a very different response. "Yeah."

I'd debated all day on whether I should take him back to that painful moment, but in the end this would be an important part of our healing process.

"Somehow saying it now doesn't have the same effect, does it?" I noted morosely. Pausing just for a moment, I plunged ahead. "But that's how it should have been. I hate knowing I robbed you of the joy of hearing me say those words for the first time. We'll never get that moment back, and it kills me."

"It's all behind us, Steph—finished," Joe stated, still looking at the tests. "And in hindsight, maybe it's good it happened the way it did."

"How can you say that?" I asked, dumbfounded.

His eyes captured mine with a look so loving, I found myself tearing up again. "Because if it hadn't happened the way it did, I may never have known the complete truth about what happened between you and Manoso, and you would have always carried that guilt around with you. Who knows how our marriage would have suffered as a result of my jealous, unresolved suspicions and your unspoken culpability? I think we're stronger because of what happened—painful as it was. And now we have the added blessing of knowing our baby is even _more _loved as a result."

"You've truly forgiven me?" I questioned, needing to hear the words again.

"Yes," he responded simply.

"Okay," I nodded, although in my heart I still couldn't figure out how he had. Slipping off his lap, I motioned to the wrapped box. "Then you'd better open your other present now."

"Steph, I _really _just want to hear about the baby first," Joe said, sounding impatient.

"Open it, Morelli," I retorted, giving him my best evil eye.

He gave a little Italian gesture in my direction to which I responded with a snort, but obediently he began to unwrap the box. When the contents were revealed, he had a confused frown on his face. "A stroller?"

"Yep."

"Oookaayy. Nice." He looked up at me expectantly, but I just stared at him. "Uh—thank you?" he added quizzically.

I continued to stare at him.

"What?" he asked defensively, looking back and forth between the box and me, "I don't get it. It's a nice stroller. What more do you want me to say?" He pointed at the box. "It's red, has a top, two seats, four wheels, a handlebar, a cup holder, a—" His voice dwindled off.

_Silence._

"Cupcake?"

"Yep?"

"This stroller has two seats."

"Yep."

"Are you planning ahead here or something?"

"Nope."

"Then why—"

Sliding off the couch to kneel at Joe's feet, I reached up and took his hand. Sliding my other hand into the pocket on the back of my jeans, I pulled out another pregnancy test and slipped it into his palm. "Surprise," I said softly. "I'm having another baby."

His eyes widened fractionally, but I could tell he was fighting reality—much like I had in Dr. Hamilton's office.

"Steph?"

"Two babies, Joe." A smile began to spread across my face. "_Two _babies."

I could immediately see in his eyes the question he was afraid to ask.

"Two _Morelli _babies," I quickly corrected. "They're both yours."

He was still staring at me, and I couldn't resist teasing him. "What was it you told me last Sunday? Oh yes—" Putting a finger on my chin as if pretending to remember, I dropped my voice to match his, "You said—'I'm a _Morelli_, aren't I? We're an incredibly virile species unto our own.'" My grin grew wider at the expression on his face, and I joked, "Well guess what, honey? You were right!"

"Oh my God," Joe whispered anxiously. "Are you serious?" His eyes narrowed considerably. "You better not be fucking kidding around, Stephanie."

I crossed my heart. "Solemn truth."

"Holy shit," he closed his eyes briefly, more than likely so I wouldn't witness his fear. I suppose I should've told him it didn't really much matter if he was afraid or not. I was scared enough for the both of us. But it was kind of nice knowing we were equally freaked.

The moment passed and Joe leapt into crisis mode, "Are you alright? What did Dr. Hamilton say _exactly_? Is something wrong?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but instead he stood and hauled me up off the floor and into his arms. "Sweet Jesus, Cupcake—twins!" The excitement had finally hit him.

"I know," I felt the same mixed rush of emotions assault my system as he lifted me in the air. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I reveled in the joy he was feeling. If I wasn't quite there yet, it could be forgiven, right? Perhaps his mood would rub off onto me.

Joe headed up the stairs with me still wrapped around him. "I want to hear every single detail the doctor said," he announced eagerly. Throwing back the covers on our bed, he placed me on the mattress and crawled in beside me, wrapping us in a cocoon of blankets. "_Everything._"

I settled my head upon his shoulder and began, "After you left and Dr. Hamilton stopped grumbling over the fact you _had _left, he continued to watch the monitor. That's when he found the second embryonic sac."

"So they're fraternal twins?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes."

"And you saw both heartbeats?"

"Uh-huh. Dr. Hamilton said we'll be able to hear them with some instrument called a Doppler in another few weeks too. According to him, you have to be further along or something. I don't really understand it all."

Joe looked at me in confusion, and I shrugged back. Somehow it helped to know he was as clueless as I was about all of this medical jargon.

"I can't even imagine what _that_ will be like." He was still in shock, as was I. "Just _watching_ that little pulse on the screen was the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

"I know."

"So was his concern simply that there are two babies, or is there more to be worried about?"

I hesitated only a moment. "There's a little more to it. Evidently, in addition to it being tipped, my uterus is also very small. That makes having multiples a little trickier, but not impossible."

"So what _does _it mean?"

"Dr. Hamilton could pretty much guarantee I won't go to full term, which I learned today is 40 weeks. If I did go full-term, my due date would be around May 26, but he says he'll be surprised if I get to 35 weeks."

I watched reality hit Joe.

"Okay," he responded, still trying to sound upbeat. "What does that mean exactly? Will they be okay?"

"Dr. Hamilton said he sees no reason why I can't deliver two healthy babies, but I just have to be careful. There's always a slightly greater risk for miscarriage with multiples. Add in the anemia and the uterus deal, and I guess he wants me to be extra cautious."

"Meaning what? He's not talking complete bed rest, is he?"

"No, but he doesn't want me entering into a stressful job right now either." My tone began to betray my own emotions, but Joe missed the sign because he was still focusing on the health of his children.

"Okay. Does that mean you can't work at all?"

"He advises against it," I answered, bummed that my voice was now quivering.

Understanding hit Joe squarely in the face. "You think I'm going to force you to stay home now permanently, don't you?" he commented in a low voice.

"There are two babies now," I reminded him unnecessarily.

"Twice the amount to love," he agreed, still trying to lift my spirits.

"Twice the amount of work," I countered.

"I'm not asking you to stay home, Steph. Nothing has changed."

"Don't you see? It _has _changed. Jesus, we'd go broke just on daycare alone."

"We'll find a way to make it work."

"I hate this!" I exploded bitterly, surprising both Joe and myself. "How can I be so freaking selfish? Here we've been agonizing all week over whether this baby would even be yours. We've prayed and begged and bartered with God to not have to go down that road with Ranger, and He answered our prayers. So what—now I'm going to bellyache because he's blessed me with _two _babies? What is wrong with me that I can't just be a normal woman who's content with the life being given to her?"

I'd barely gotten the words out through my huge, gulping tears. Poor Joe _had_ to be immune to the damn things by now. It seemed like I'd done nothing _but _cry during the past week.

He pulled me closer and rubbed a hand over my back. "Cupcake, it's _okay_. You're not selfish. You've been dealt another hell of a shock today. I have too. We're both riding a _huge _emotional roller coaster over so many things, and I think we're entitled to breakdowns once in awhile."

Shifting slightly so he could see my face, he continued, "But don't start borrowing trouble when you don't have to. I'm not asking you to change our plan at all. Yes, I think you should follow the doctor's advice and not work until after the babies are born. We need to trust Dr. Hamilton knows what he's talking about. Once they're here, however, if you want to go back to work, we'll find a way for you to do it. I promise, Stephanie. Nothing has changed."

"There's more!" I wailed, still sobbing.

"Oookay," he was trying hard to keep up with my widely erratic mood swings. "Tell me."

"I feel even guiltier now about Ranger. He was having a hard enough time getting used to the idea I'd chosen you. God, it's only been a few weeks, Joe! So much has happened it feels like an eternity, but in reality he's still just recovering from the blows of our engagement and marriage."

I felt Joe's head nod against my cheek, giving me the courage to continue. "Then I slammed him with the business of the paternity test, giving him hope once more that he can have a part of me." I was fearful Joe would react jealously to that statement, but again he merely listened. "Today I took that dream away from him too. And now? Now he's going to have to hear that we're being blessed with _two _babies, and neither one of them is his! How does he recover from that? How do I face him, knowing the pain I've caused him? You keep saying you think he and I will be able to maintain a friendship. Instead _I _wonder if he'll ever be able to stand to look at me again!"

Joe's hand continued to rub slowly across my back. "I understand, Steph. Honestly I do."

"You're not mad?" _How could he NOT be mad?_

"Cupcake, I meant what I told Manoso at the doctor's office today. I'm partly responsible for what happened between the three of us in the past."

"But—" I immediately felt the need to take all the blame again.

"No buts. We're all adults, and we all played a role in what happened. I'm telling you the truth now—for me it's done. It's in the past, and I don't want to have to keep rehashing it again and again. Didn't I just tell you a few minutes ago that I've forgiven you?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then let it go—once and for all, okay?"

"I'm trying. It's just hard."

"I get that too. Believe me, I get it. I told you last night I'd partially feel like shit if it turned out the baby was mine, and I do. Now I have two miracles—three if I include you, because the fact that you love me is a miracle in itself as far as I'm concerned."

"That goes both ways," I squeezed him closer.

"I don't have the answer for what to do about Ranger. I was telling him the truth about your relationship too this morning. I don't want to stand in the way of whatever friendship you're able to salvage. Now that you've been completely honest with me, I don't have this insane jealousy driving me any longer. I trust you."

A week ago, I never thought he'd trust me again. As far as I was concerned, the fact that he did was a complete testament to the intensity of our love coupled with the power of truth.

Joe went on, "Ranger and I will probably never be best of friends, but I understand what he brings to your life. I'm learning to not feel threatened that another man can provide you happiness. It doesn't have to be just me that fulfills you."

"Even though you do," I reminded him.

"Even though I do," he shifted to bring us face to face. "This is all going to take time, Stephanie. You just admitted yourself how short of a timeframe we're really talking about here. I still believe though that you provide something to Ranger only you can fulfill. He's going to go through hell for a while, but then he's going to need to accept whatever part of you he _can _have. He'll want that friendship—mark my words."

"And you're not going to want to kill him, maim him or make his life a living hell?"

"Like I told him, as long as he doesn't touch you, we're fine." Both his demeanor and body were relaxed beside me. "Besides, he was right about one thing this morning. I do have everything—your love, your ring and now your children. I'd pretty much be a heartless bastard if I denied him your friendship."

"What _you_ _are_ is amazing," I marveled. "How do you have the capacity to forgive and love so easily?"

"I don't," Joe answered bluntly. "I've spent the lion's share of my life maintaining grudges and withholding my love from people—my father and to a certain extent the rest of my family, people who've hurt me on the job—you."

"It doesn't feel like it. It feels like just the opposite." I said, brushing a lock of hair off of his forehead.

"That's because allowing myself to love you has shown me how much I've been missing in life. I'm still not ready to let go of my feelings toward my family. There are _a lot _of hurts there right now, Steph. And I have a suspicion there are a lot more to come. But I meant it the other day when I said, I can get through anything as long as I have you—and now our children."

I let out a slow exhale. "Child—_ren_."

He exhaled even louder. "Yeah."

"I'm scared out of my mind," I admitted, my voice shaking again.

Joe winced. "I think I'm supposed to be the voice of comfort and assurance here, but I got to tell you, I'm fucking scared out of _my _mind too."

We looked at one another and burst out laughing.

My laughter died, and in its place came an overwhelming desire to be with my husband. Placing his hand on my stomach, I whispered, "I love you so much, Joe. Make love to me—right now. I need you to show me how much you love the three of us."

Joe rolled on top of me, careful to keep his weight off of my body. His eyes had darkened to the color of chocolate syrup, and as his lips descended to meet mine, he whispered the words that would continue to seal us together forever.

"I love you too, Mrs. Morelli, and that's the God's honest truth."

The End

A/N - I think I've mentioned before that I was pretty ticked over the whole Vordo week in JE's Book 17 as well as all of Book 18. Writing "Time" was my way of trying to right the wrongs in my head over not having been given a better explanation of what was going on between my three favorite characters. However it wasn't until I started "Trust" that this seed began to germinate in the back of my head. "What if there were consequences to Vordo week? What if Joe and Steph didn't know until AFTER they were married?" I kept telling myself I was crazy, but one day I sent a PM to RangerGirl, the perfect BabeCake, and asked her the question, "What if". I was terrified of the repercussions that might occur of doing another Joe/Steph/Ranger/Baby storyline, but she was instrumental in suggesting I go for it, so a HUGE thanks to her. Also, she was there to provide me with the feedback I needed regarded Ranger's character. Thanks for that too!

So I continued to ponder. In the meantime, the story of Tony was developing in my brain and Julie entered my writing world. She suggested I go for both story lines. Finally I said I'd try. I want you to know I've made every effort to keep the characters true to the books while hopefully allowing for some growth to occur as well. Julie has been a Godsend in helping me to craft each chapter, always pushing me to go a little further. Thank you, dear girl! Our friendship means so much to me.

Perhaps some of you will be saddened that I chose to recreate the moment when Joe first discovered the 10 pregnancy tests at the beginning of the story. I can't tell you how much I debated whether or not to bring a "downer" into this happy chapter, given all the stress and angst our couple has gone through. In the end, I felt it was critical to the growth of Stephanie. I think she finally realized that truth does "define life" as Joe put it in a couple of chapters. Had she told him the truth from the beginning much of this wouldn't have happened. Had she told him the truth that Sunday, she might have saved herself some of this agony. It's a bittersweet moment, but really the whole chapter is, as they both are feeling terrible for Ranger. I wanted Joe to be able to emphasize his forgiveness and then for them to have the joy of the second pregnancy. So I hope you'll forgive me if that set you back a moment, but I stand by what I've written.

The story is not finished however. We have a HUGE issue to resolve with Tony/Paul, and that's only the beginning of their story. Plus, how does Ranger recover from this blow he's taken? Will he and Steph salvage a friendship? Will Joe reconcile with his family? LOL! Tune in next time...Just kidding. I plan to begin a new story called "It's About Treachery" SOON, but I may take a couple of days off to breathe. I'm pooped!

Love to you all!

Carol


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